Dark Eyes
by Not-Willing-to-Admit
Summary: Severus & Albus. When Severus is kidnapped by Voldemort, Albus must face a few ugly truths, including the fact that he helped create the shattered soul behind the dark eyes of Severus Snape.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer_**: Not mine! Not making a penny!

**Disclaimer # 2** Angst. A/U - HBP Era. Sirius didn't die. Horace is at the school. SS is teaching DADA and Albus' hand is just fine. Slash. Non-Con. We'll see what other squicky things Not-Willing-to-Admit is Willing-to-Do-to-the-Boys.

* * *

Dark eyes, their closely held secrets hidden behind a shock of oily, black hair that framed his sallow face. Some people might view their hair as a crowning glory; not this boy. He used his hair as armor, a subtle way of keeping others at arms' length from him. 

But, who, in their right mind, would want to be close to _**him**_?

What with his black clothes, his arrogant sneer, his long, unkempt hair?

The boy _**smelled**_… not, as the unkind would automatically think, of unwashed flesh, sweat and grime, but of the various constituent elements and compounds of his trade. He had never found the smell of the boy off-putting; rather he found it reassuring. It was who he was, part of the man the young boy had become, intense, smoky, and bittersweet.

His hands were scarred, crisscrossed with old burns, and stained from the art of potion making. Normally, they were graceful and accomplished, yet last night…

Last night, those skilled hands had been hesitant, diffident. The boy's sharp tongue had been stilled, his bitter mouth surprisingly honey smooth and sweet.

He was cold, aloof, _**remote**_, but last night, he had been so desperate to touch someone, to physically love another person that he hadn't worried if the price to be paid for affection would be coin of his own pain.

The boy anticipated the physical pain, expected it, and deemed it of no consequence, compared to his overwhelming need.

And so the older man's defenses had weakened to the point where he had foolishly agreed to take the boy to his bed. Taking his time, he tried to teach the boy that there could be… pleasure… for _**him, **_that life was sometimes too full of pain, but there could be joy also.

And the student had been utterly unprepared for an experience where _**his**_ needs were paramount.

His voice, normally so caustic, so acerbic and harsh, had softened into low, pleading moans and soft gasps of astonished delight.

Alas, the teacher had also been unprepared when the student, believing him sleeping, had softly whispered the most closely held secret of his heart.

He would never have touched the boy if he had any inkling of the depths of the boy's feelings. The war Albus fought did not permit him the chance to love, especially one who so needed affection and devotion. Furious with himself for such a colossal misstep, Albus realized too far late that boy thought Albus' anger was directed toward him due to his accidental slip of the tongue.

But those dark, hooded eyes which saw everything and revealed nothing in their inky depths… had been despairing… surprised… loving… adoring…last night… and this morning… they had been loving... destroyed… horrified… mortified… after the words that _**had**_ to be spoken, were uttered.

_**This was a mistake.**_

Four simple words, spoken gently and tenderly, dare Albus say…spoken _lovingly_… but still crushing the heartbroken soul of the man who received them.

The devastated man-child had regained his emotional poise with a Herculean effort that Albus knew had cost him everything in his soul.

He had turned away from everything he had believed in because of love, and now, twice devoted, twice rejected, twice heartbroken, Severus Snape had returned to the Death Eaters.

Albus Dumbledore stood in the wreckage of Severus Snape's destroyed chambers and cursed the results of his physical and emotional weaknesses of the previous evening. The boy had left in a hurry, everything was overturned, his drawers were messing, having been rummaged through in great haste… His mind remarked on the incongruity. Severus Snape had been neat to a fault, anal….every i dotted, every t crossed… but… his quarters looked like a tornado had wrecked havoc.

Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and Albus simply could not realize what it was. All he could focus on was his anger as this situation was his fault, and his alone.

"Filius, we will need to examine everything. Find out what he took, what he didn't take, find the pattern," Albus instructed the Charms Instructor. "Box _**everything**_."

He stormed toward the door, pausing before he exited.

"Merlin's beard, Filius, removing those damn Dark Marks from the walls is your first order of business. Remus Lupin will be arriving shortly. He will need suitable quarters, and I do not believe that he will enjoy Severus' recent renovations."

* * *

_The spy gave his report in dry, clinical, dispassionate tones; hiding his horror over what atrocities in which he had partaken. His normal, rigid posture was gone; instead, the boy was exhausted, slumped in the chair, his dark hair hiding his eyes._

_"And so…that is how the Dark Lord and his closest acquaintances celebrated Christmas," Severus dryly remarked. "A very merry time was had by all… except for those… less… fortunate…"_

_"You have done well, and lives will be saved with the information you have given me" Albus assured him. "Since you missed Christmas dinner, I asked the House elves to keep some ready for you."_

_The boy barked a laugh. _

_Dry, self-hating, mocking, the laugh was a harsh sound that echoed in Albus' office. Fawkes crooned a soft sound, attempting to ease the boy's soul ache.  
_

_"Yes, I must have my Christmas goose and stuffing," Severus dryly retorted._

_Severus only picked at the food, nibbling only out of a sense of politeness and duty. He flatly refused afters, and then Albus handed him a brightly wrapped Christmas gift._

_"Thank you for your gift, Severus. The complete writings of Merlin on the value of education? I fear you are trying to tell me something," Albus gently teased. "Here is my gift to you."_

_Severus winced at the loud, garish green wrapping paper complete with the mandatory silver snakes that wiggled and hissed when they encountered the silver bow, obviously hand wrapped by Albus as there was a crinkle in the wrap. Considering he was one of the most powerful wizards known to humankind, it was amusing that Albus always insisted on hand wrapping his presents._

_"Thank you for the socks and scarf, Albus," Severus stated quietly._

_"You __**peeked**__!" Albus protested._

_Severus gave the Head Master a long, lingering glance, his dark eyes unreadable._

_"You always give me socks and scarves, Albus. Green, silver, green and silver adorned with mortars and pestles, snakes and caduceuses. You simply refuse to grasp the concept that I do not like your taste in socks, and will not wear those outlandish scarves. I believe that Minerva is the only one that has ever worn any of your gifts."_

_"Alas, I know, but every year, I still endeavor in my fruitless task to keep my staff warm and dry, my boy," Albus teased. "Christmas is a time for presents, irregardless if the recipient shares one's taste in socks and scarves."_

_The exhausted boy emotionally collapsed then, and Albus reached for him, holding him, rocking him, murmuring soft words of comfort until Severus' tears stopped and his grief for those innocents who had died on Christmas had been released. The boy clung to him, like a man drowning clings to anything that might keep him afloat, even for little longer.  
_

_Then to Albus' utter surprise, Severus kissed him._

_It was a slow, hesitant kiss, and when Albus did not respond, Severus pulled away from him, intently staring at a blank spot on the wall. His shoulders were slumped, his dark hair hiding his eyes, as though he expected Albus to strike him for his impudence._

_"I could make it… __**good**__… for __**you**__," Severus whispered, stressing those words __as though they were of utmost importance._

_**Good**__ for __**me**__, Albus sadly thought. Not good for Severus, not good for the two of us, but merely good for me._

_"No, I must refuse your most kind and generous offer, Severus," Albus kindly responded._

_"I have been assured that I am quite… __**skilled**__," Severus softly offered, his voice distressed. "My techniques could give you… __**intensive**__ pleasure…"_

_The Potions Master was still staring at the wall, too terrified to actually look Albus in the eyes when he propositioned him.  
_  
_Albus mentally winced, and once more, refused Severus' offer._

_"Forgive me, Albus. I should not have asked, as I knew that you would be… repulsed," Severus softly confessed. "But I had dared to hope."  
_

"_Not repulsed, my dear boy. Startled, yes, unbelievably flattered, yes, but not sickened," assured Albus. _

_Dumbledore offered Severus some fire whisky and the boy drank four fingers in a single gulp. The Slytherin held out his glass, and after a brief moment of indecision, Albus poured more for him. That was swallowed quickly, and Severus held out his glass again._

_"No," Albus stated quietly. "No more for you, Severus."_

_"No more what? Whisky? No more __**whisky**__?" Severus questioned; his voice oddly intense._

_"No more whisky, Severus. You are in fey mood tonight, and I do not think adding more whisky to your volatile mood will be helpful."_

_The boy sighed, as though in relief. The Potions Master leaned forward in his chair, and he placed his hands in his hair, clenching large clumps in his fists._

_"Head Master, may I ask a question?" The Voice, as Albus had entitled Severus' voice, was halting, uncertain, so unlike its usual timbre. _

_"You may, Severus, but I reserve the right to refuse to answer," Albus answered._

_Snape's fingers in his hair clenched and unclenched, and then clenched again, while his shoulders tightened. _

_"If I was that damnable cur Sirius Black… would you have agreed to spend the night with me?" was his soft question._

_"Sirius?" Albus questioned, uncertain if he had heard correctly._

_"If I was your golden boy, would you let me pleasure you? If I was … that damnable Golden Boy… the Boy that Lived while his Late, Unlamented Mother Died for Him… would you still reject me thus? I could give you such… __**delight**__…Albus…I have been... **praised**...for my skill. You would have... no... complaints..." _

_The desperation in Severus' voice frightened the Head Master. Truly, the boy was a tad touched tonight. _  
_  
"Severus… __**please**__…" protested Albus._

_"I've given you my honor. My word… I've given everything of value to you, Albus…but you don't love me like you do your golden Gryffindors. I spy for you…I do such horrible, horrible things… for __**you**__…while my soul screams and screams… Now, I only have one object left to give you…my body… and you won't take it. I know… I'm… dirty… and soiled… but if I was Lupin? When he tried to kill me, you gave me detention. Not Black, but I was punished because you wanted to protect Lupin."_

_The boy was in tears, and Albus reached for his shoulder. He touched Severus gently, and the boy looked at him. His dark eyes were not hidden by his hair for once, and they were full of horror._

_"I wouldn't be afraid if it was you. You could do anything to me, anything you wanted. Just for tonight, for a __**Christmas gift**__…" Severus spat those words like they were a blood curse. "Couldn't you close your eyes and pretend that I'm one of your beloved Gryffindors? Make believe that you see me as human… as something besides your __**tool**__? Can you not spare some affection for me? Have I not earned it? Have I not paid for my crimes in blood and grief?"_

_The dark haired Slytherin just stared at Albus, and the boy opened his mind to him. The onslaught of Severus' overwhelming need nearly unmanned Albus, as Albus could hear, feel, sense an emotionally shattered Severus mentally shrieking how he was cursed and damned._

_**USE ME. USE ME. ALBUS, CONSUME ME! I GIVE EVERYTHING TO YOU AND DO SO WILLINGLY!  
**__  
"You're a Legilimens, Albus," Severus pleaded. "Read my mind. You could do anything to me, just don't turn me away. Not tonight, I beg of you."_

_**I AM ICE.**_

_**I BLEED TO DEATH FROM THE PAIN. STAY WITH ME, WARM ME.**_

_**I COULD MAKE IT SO GOOD FOR YOU!  
**__  
"Easy…. Easy…" Albus whispered. "Just for tonight."_

_He kissed Severus on the top of his head, and the boy began to weep._

* * *

_He had wanted this for so long, having fantasized of being in Albus' bed ever since he was a student, dreaming of proving to Albus how sexually skilled he was, and now that it was happening, Severus couldn't perform. Nervous as a virgin, unexpectedly and awkwardly unsure of where his elbows and knees should go, Severus panicked, overwhelmed by shame and fear._

_And Albus didn't mock him, ridicule and scorn Severus' feeble attempts at caressing him._

_Instead, Dumbledore was… gentle… with him._

_He was so cold… always so cold and alone… and Albus was a white, hot flame… holding him… touching him… driving away the bitter, aching loneliness that sapped his strength, replacing it with gentle warmth._

_Dumbledore's nimble fingers were touching and caressing him, and to his shame, his body quickly shuddered out its climax under Albus' touch. He had __**control**__… Severus had learned it at the not so gentle hands of Lucius and Goyle… and Crabbe…but Albus' hands had been so… so... agile that he could not help but respond thus. He was just so humiliated… Severus closed his eyes, and wished he was elsewhere… anywhere but lying in Albus' bed, his clothes wet from his embarrassingly quick climax._

_Albus kissed him on his mouth, and began to undress him. Severus protested… wanting to reassure Albus that he'd do much better next time…that he would ensure that Albus got his own pleasure… but Albus put his warm fingers over Severus' lips to silence him._

_"Shh… let me clean you."_

_"Please… don't Scourgify me," Severus begged, biting his tongue to prevent himself from adding, "Like your golden Gryffindors did to me, time and time again while you turned a blind eye to their cruelties."_

_"Soap and water," Albus reassured him._

_So he lay in Albus' bed while the Head Master cleaned and washed him, using a soapy flannel and warm water. Albus took his time, slowly and deliberately, ignoring Severus' plaintive pleas to please let Severus pleasure him. He was so weak… so cold… and Albus' teasing hands were so gentle and kind…_

_He was drifting, drowsy, content, and warm when he felt Albus' mouth on his cock... Albus' hands were holding his hands and Severus trembled and shook as that damnable, whimsical Dumbledore teased and taunted, driving him mad with desire, bringing him so close to climax, then cooling him down, over and over again. It had never been like for this before for Severus, for his bed partner to be so considerate of… __**him**_

_"Please… __**please**__…" he whimpered, as he thrashed and moaned in Albus' bed._

_"Not yet, not yet," Albus insisted._

_His entire world only consisted of __**pleasure**_

_Albus' mouth, his tongue, his teeth and how Albus teased, sucked, taunted, nibbled and nipped, the feel of Albus' beard against his inner thighs, how tightly Albus was holding his hands._

_He came again… shuddering… even as Albus sucked and swallowed… After Albus had coaxed the last shudder from his quaking body, Severus had hesitantly kissed him, and Severus tasted __**himself **__on the Head Master's lips._

_"I'm so sorry, Albus… I'm so sorry," he pleaded, after they broke apart. "Forgive me…"_

_"Why are you asking for my forgiveness, Severus?" Albus softly questioned, his normally whimsical voice, surprisingly serious. "You wanted to pleasure me, and the only way I can take enjoyment in this is if my partner is completely satisfied also."_

_"Take me," Severus requested. "Top me, please." _

_He hated being the bottom, as Lucius and his cronies were cruel and sadistic, uncaring if those lying underneath them were properly prepared. But for Albus, he'd bottom, for Albus… he'd do anything. If Albus hurt him, he'd take it; savor the agony and the ecstasy, for it was ALBUS' gift to him. "Don't you want to top me?" Albus gently inquired. "This is your Christmas gift, after all, and I want you to enjoy it far more than a pair of garish socks that you'll never wear."_

_Severus shook his head, refusing to even debate that issue. As this night had proven in spades, he wasn't in control. If he hurt Albus in his clumsiness, even __**accidentally**__, he'd hate himself forever._

_"I trust you," Albus assured him. "I know you wouldn't hurt me, and I'd enjoy it."_

_He could and would willingly drown in Albus' blue eyes, blue as the sky, and Severus again refused._

_"Very well, I'll top. But I must ensure that you're properly prepared for it."_

* * *

_Albus took his time, like he promised. Many kisses were first deliberately applied and then lots of lubricant, before the older wizard gently rubbed his finger tip over Severus' sensitive opening._

_Severus nonverbally cast a Relaxing spell before Albus started to gently finger him. One finger, slowly…and then a pause._

_It was __**wonderful**__, feeling Albus inside of him, and Severus collected his scattered thoughts long enough to start casting a Free from Pain spell. He didn't want to cry out in pain when Albus topped him, because it __**always**__ hurt…_

_Albus interrupted him, distracting him from his spell casting._

_"Don't __**cast**__, Severus. If you need magic to get you through this, then it's __**not**__ good for you," Albus protested._

_And so he had to agree before Albus would continue._

* * *

Severus fled from Albus' quarters, ashamed, horrified, and mortified. His black robes billowed behind him, as he stormed to his rooms, delighted that no one saw him running like a fear struck child. Under one arm, there was Albus' Christmas gift to him, still unopened. Albus had stopped him before he made his escape, gently chastising him for not taking his Christmas gift with him, and so, not knowing what else to do, Severus had grabbed it. 

He had cocked everything up.

Albus had been so good to him, and he had to blurt out something best left unsaid.

_Albus was thrusting slowly inside him, nudging his prostate with each thrust, even while his Albus' hand squeezed and teased his erection. It felt so __**good**__… so unlike his previous bottomings… There was no pain, just a slowly spreading mix of warmth and desire. Dumbledore's thrusts began to speed up, Albus' physical need crescendoing until at last; Albus pounded out his release, taking Severus to the very brink and then beyond, before they collapsed into a happy jumble of limbs._

_And that… as thought that wasn't __**enough**__… Albus had kissed him, cuddled with __**him**__, holding him, murmuring soft words to him._

_It was heaven, and so when Severus believed that Albus was asleep, Severus hesitantly touched his lover's face, ran his fingers through his beard, and then whispered two words that he should never have dared to say out loud._

_…love you…_

_For he __**would**_

…_for he __**did**_

…_for he __**had**_

_Albus' eyes had opened then, merely shamming that he was sleeping and instead of their usual sky blue eyes, they were as dark blue as the ocean in winter, cold and austere. __**  
**__  
Frightened, Severus had fled from Albus' bed then, and Albus had prevented him leaving his bedchamber. _

_Then Albus said those four words that caused Severus' world to shatter. _

_**This was a mistake.  
**__  
Severus had reacted instinctively, refusing to let Albus see how much those few words, so uncaringly spoken, had hurt him. He shut down his emotions, and calmly agreed that it was a terrible mistake and that he knew that Albus could never love him. He had requested to leave, and Albus had pushed those damn socks and scarf off on him. Wanting to flee, needing to lick his wounds, Severus had taken them._

He entered his quarters, and barricaded the doors. Uncertain what to do, he carefully opened Albus' present, wanting to see what Albus had given him, one of the last presents Albus would ever give him.

_Why, why, why did he have to admit his love to Albus?__Albus had saved Severus from himself so many times, always giving him another chance… and… he had loved him for it. All those years ago, a bedraggled, grubby little boy had stared with heartfelt longing at those Golden Gryffindors, wishing that the Headmaster cared for a dirty, unkempt, terribly lonely Slytherin brat as much as he did his Golden Boys._

Hysterical laughter bubbled forth, and he savagely suppressed it.

The socks were hideous. Emerald green with silver snakes playing Quidditch, and the scarf matched. He was still staring at them when he heard a knock on his door.

"Severus, I need to speak to you," Albus ordered. "I know you're in there. There's an important matter that we need to discuss."

Having no choice in the matter, he opened the door. Albus pushed his way into his rooms and then unexpectedly turned his wand on him. The Head Master hexed him quickly, even as Severus grabbed for his own wand.

_**Petrificus Totalus! OBSCURO!  
**_

Severus fell to the ground, his mind screaming a counter hex, when Albus hit him with another hex. He couldn't think - all he could do was glibber in terror.

_**Why was Albus doing this? If Albus wanted to Obliverate the memory, he didn't need to do this!**_

"Severus… Severus… the Dark Lord is _**exceedingly**_ displeased with you."

"Albus" opened Severus mouth and not so gently stuffed one of the Albus' ugly Christmas socks into his mouth, and then turned around to look at Snape's quarters.

"Looks like you're quitting your cushy job here, Sev," stated "Albus". "Time to burn this bridge. I think Albus will be quite horrified when he sees that you decided to paint the Dark Mark in your quarters. So the question is; how will our noble Albus react when he realizes that his little tame Death Eater has decided to fly the coop?"


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer:_ **Not my characters. Not making any money. AD/SS, a smidgen of AD/MM. Oh, and while we're at it, I'm _**not **_writing it but we all know RL/SB with a side serving of RL/NT/SB.

_**Disclaimer # 2 -**_ Slash. Non Con. This is A/U, where I refused to allow several of JKR's characters to be really truly dead.

_**Disclaimer # 3**_ - Some squick is probably forthcoming, as I'm experimenting. Please be gentle.

* * *

"I now call this emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to order," Albus announced. "As this is an emergency meeting, normal rules of order have been suspended. Last meeting's notes will be reviewed at our next scheduled meeting."

"Albus, just spit it out," Sirius Black interrupted. He impatiently shook his head, his long curly hair falling back into his eyes. "Tell us what's bloody happened. It must be important."

"I have reason to believe that Severus Snape has returned to Voldemort, whether willingly or not, I can not say for certain."

There was a large outcry of noise from the assembled members of the Order of the Phoenix at that comment. Sirius slammed his hand on the table, loudly berating Snivellous, Molly Weasley sharply inhaled, and everyone began loudly voicing their firmly held opinions on one Severus Snape.

Arthur Weasley shook his head and then managed to out shout every person in the room. His voice was strident, easily cutting through the noise the room. It was easy to forget that the easy going man sometimes found it quite necessary to put his foot down over the antics of his wife and seven children.

"_**ENOUGH**_! I would hear Albus' reasons to understand why the man he has vouched as trustworthy, no longer has his faith."

"We had a disagreement. I, was, perhaps, not as understanding as I should have been. After much internal deliberation, I went to his quarters in order to apologize to him about the matter. His rooms had been ransacked, the Dark Mark on every wall, every mirror. Most of his clothing was gone, and several of his students stated that they saw him leave his chambers. They described him as… _**agitated**_."

"More so than _**normal**_?" Sirius Black dryly quipped which earned an exasperated sigh from Remus.

The werewolf didn't particularly like or dislike Severus, but sometimes, he did get tired of the decades' long antagonism between Sirius and Severus.

"Is there any possibility that there might be another explanation?" Remus inserted. His voice was calm, but his eyes were troubled. "Maybe he didn't leave willingly. Maybe he was Compelled."

"I asked Filius to attempt to recreate the scene. Filius, would you mind giving your report?" Albus questioned. "While Filius is not a member of our Order, I trust that his analytical mind may see some pattern in Severus' departure that I am incapable of considering at this moment."

The Charms Instructor nodded his head briskly, and began to report. His soft voice was shaky, as Severus' disappearance and alleged betrayal affected his sensitive soul deeply.

"I was unable to recreate the scene. There was a lot of disruptive magic used," he stated.

"Dark arts?" Remus inserted.

"Yes," Filius admitted. "I found Severus' wand. It had been snapped in half, though I was able to cast Prior Incantato. The Dark Mark was cast by that wand."

"And by Severus?" Sirius inserted.

"I said, that the Dark Mark was cast by that _**wand**_. I do not know _**who**_ was holding it," Filius protested. "He may have been disarmed."

"You're splitting hairs," roared Sirius.

"No," the Charms Instructor squeaked. "I am approaching this situation with an open mind, attempting to find all possible reasons for the events that occurred. Unlike you, I do not let my biases blind my mind to other possibilities. Your dislike of Severus is legendary, which is why your opinion on this situation matters to me not at all."

"Snapping a wand in half is a rather theatrical gesture, and Severus was never one for dramatics," Remus inserted, deliberately not looking at Sirius Black. "Plus it would leave him defenseless."

"He has another wand," Albus inserted. "I gifted him with a wand when he became an instructor at Hogwarts. I did not wish him to use the wand that he had used when he was a Death Eater when he was instructing the students."

"Which wand did he snap?" Remus questioned, though he feared he knew the answer.

"The one that I gave him," Albus admitted.

"Filius, did you catalog what was taken from his rooms?" Minerva McGonagall questioned.

The witch had remained silent during the meeting, her mind trying to figure out what had happened. The boy was loyal to the cause; there had been no doubt in her mind… because Albus had believed in Severus' loyalty. Now that Albus was uncertain, the witch was finding herself questioning Snape's allegiance.

Yes, Severus had done everything he could to prove himself loyal to Albus; yet Minerva knew full well that every man had a breaking point.

"Yes, it's bizarre, what was taken. Clothes, but not all of them," explained Filius. "His winter coat, his black scarf and gloves."

"Perhaps he's decided to get a new wardrobe, all black is just so passé," Sirius inserted.

"Sirius, if you can not add anything constructive to this discussion, I will silence you like I did when you kept talking in my fourth year Transfiguration class," Minerva snapped.

Remus bit back his smile, remembering Minerva stuffing Sirius' scarf into his mouth to shut him up, but Sirius saw that Remus was amused and growled. Sirius then waved his hand in apology as though he were back to attending Hogwarts.

"My apologies for interrupting, Professor McGonagall, it will not happen again."

"There were potions books taken, but not all. Some of the rarer, most esoteric volumes on brewing are still at Hogwarts. It was though someone packed, but in a hurry, having no true comprehension of what was valuable for a Potions Master," Filius continued.

"Maybe he had help packing," Remus inserted. "Though Severus is talented enough not to need assistance. A simple pack spell would have been sufficient."

"Plus the room is a disaster. It's _**obvious**_ that Severus left and the Dark Marks? My friend… colleague…" Filius' voice shook and then strengthened. "Was… is… many things. But first and foremost, he's a spy. If Albus and Severus had indeed argued, and he then decided to leave, he would not have tipped us off so soon. If he had left, but kept his rooms neat, it would have been hours, possibly days before we were sure he was gone. But we are now aware, so we can do damage control. Since they're aware that we know Severus is gone, why have they not attacked? Severus could easily tell them _**everything**_."

"Perhaps Severus was angry enough to ignore his well known discretion. What did you two argue about, Albus?" Kingsley Shacklebolt questioned.

Albus rubbed his forehead, before he continued. "It was a personal matter between the two of us. Severus was exhausted; physically, mentally, spirituality, and his involvement with yesterday's Christmas Massacre weighed heavily on his soul."

"Severus was there?" Remus softly questioned. "In Devonshire? He was there when those Muggle children… Those… poor, poor Muggle children…"

The werewolf refused to continue, instead compulsively swallowing until he regained his composure.

"Yes," Albus tersely answered.

"May I continue?" Filius inserted. "This is perhaps the weirdest thing that Severus took."

He placed one emerald green sock with silver snakes playing Quidditch on the table.

"One sock," Filius explained, his voice perplexed. "One bloody sock. He didn't take the scarf; he didn't take the sock's mate. This is this years' Christmas gift, isn't it? You gave me a similar set, except with a Ravenclaw motif. He just took… _**one**_… sock."

"Severus had a drawer in his wardrobe that was neatly lined with every single socks and scarf set that Albus has ever given him. There was even an empty spot for this year's socks and scarf as though Severus had rearranged the drawer in preparation for Albus' traditional gift. The scarf and lone sock were on the bed. Where is the other sock? Combined that with the broken wand, the_**correct**_ potions books not being removed from his room, the magic that successfully obliterated the magic currents in the room, the Dark Marks decorated everywhere? I know that most will not agree with me, but I believe Severus Snape to be in a great deal of danger."

"Filius, he's a Death Eater. _**Once**_ a Death Eater, _**always**_ a Death Eater," Alastor Moody protested.

"We have had Death Eaters impersonate our staff, Alastor. Why not one of our students? A Death Eater impersonating a Slytherin student, who looking for aid, comes to Severus' chambers, overpowers him easily, as a distracted, possibly distraught, Severus is not expecting it. Albus, I believe that he _**is**_ in trouble," Filius firmly announced.

Albus slowly nodded his head, and Filius squeaked his alarm.

"You_**agree**_ with me, Albus?" Filius questioned. "Then what's your plan for getting the boy out of there?"

"Yes, and no. Yes, I agree with you. No, there is no plan for extricating Severus. There is nothing we can do," Albus softly answered.

"You agree? Yet you're _**abandoning**_ him?" Minerva protested. "He's one of _**ours**_!"

"I had almost hoped that I was wrong about my own dark ruminations. Severus must now be considered lost in battle, a prisoner who even now, is no doubt being tortured for information by Voldemort," Albus regretfully admitted. "It is a discussion Severus and I had previously. If he was ever taken by Voldemort's forces, we were to assume that his betrayal was noticed. There would be no attempts at rescue, as we would have to focus on damage control. Severus knows a great deal of our plans, but not all."

"You didn't trust him with everything?" Sirius questioned, his voice lightly shaded with delight that Albus had not trusted Snivellous with all of the Order's Secrets.

"No," Albus stated. "I dared not tell him everything, not when he was within arm's reach of Voldemort."

There was a long moment of silence, with Filius Flitwick wiping his tearing eyes with a rough gesture.

"Remus Lupin has agreed to return to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Regretfully, Remus, I must put you in Severus' old quarters, as we will be promoting the idea that Severus quit of his own free will over the Holiday Break," Albus announced. "Any contact with Severus must be immediately brought to my attention."

"If there are no more questions, this meeting is adjourned. If there are any updates on the situation, you will be informed."

With that said; leaving no time for any of the shell shocked audience to actually formulate a question, Albus quickly stood up and exited the room. But not before he deliberately grabbed the single, solitary sock that lay forlorn and mateless, on the table and placed it in his pocket. He then Disapparated from the room with a loud crack that echoed through the room.

* * *

Albus returned to his office. He sank into his chair, closed his eyes, and massaged his aching temples, wishing that he'd stop reliving a particularly painful memory.

_"I won't expect you to rescue me," Severus admitted softly. "I know what the risks are. I know what will happen if I am caught and I know… that you won't be able to save me."_

Severus' dark eyes glittered, and Albus wished that he turned away from the boy at the moment, so he wouldn't remember the bleakness in the boy's dark eyes. No, instead, he had looked into the boy's eyes, because Albus had thought it _**proper.**_ They were discussing the boy's possible capture by Voldemort and what would happen next, Albus would not look away as though he was shamed.

They were two adult wizards, after all. Tough decisions had to be made and affirmed by both.  
_  
"You shouldn't risk everything to save a tool, Albus. I am… what I am. I have long since accepted this simple truth." _  
_  
You were __**never**__ just a tool, Severus. _

There was a knock on the door, and welcoming chirrup from Fawkes.

"Come in, Minerva," Albus called. He looked up from where he was sitting, and motioned for Minerva to take a chair. "You're here to tell me it isn't my fault, and I shouldn't feel guilty. Severus knew exactly what he was getting into when he agreed to spy for us."

"Will you let me talk? Or have you decided you know whatever platitude I'm about to mouth, so I can go on my merry way," snipped Minerva.

Albus nodded his head, not embarrassed to admit that she had called his dark mood correctly.

"Actually, Albus, I just wanted to comment on how quiet… the meeting was," Minerva's voice grew shaky, and she briskly wiped her eyes before regaining her composure. "It was odd… no snarking from Severus."

"Sirius was quite delighted to be the undisputed Czar of Sarcasm," Dumbledore quipped, his tone deliberately light.

He walked away from his desk, on the pretense of offering Minerva something to drink, but actually just giving himself time to regain his composure.

"_**Albus**_…" Minerva's voice was soft and compassionate, which undid Albus completely.

"I can't find that damnable boy. I can't Scrive him. I can't even Sense him. I had layers upon layers of tracers on Severus Snape, and I can not Locate him! I thought perhaps he had touched it, perchance he might have charmed it…" explained Albus. "Nothing. _**Nothing**_ at all. It's just an ordinary, though exceedingly ugly, sock."

"That's why you took the sock," Minerva remarked, her voice soft with astonishment.

Dumbledore paced for a moment, and then stopped as though Minerva had physically slapped him.

"Are you truly _**that**_ surprised, Minerva?" Albus softly questioned.

His blue eyes were a stormy gray, and his gloomy visage was despondent.

Minerva looked at the Head Master, regretfully nodded her head before she hesitantly spoke, "We've had… _**many**_… losses in this war, Albus."

"You believe that I _**don't**_ care? Do you believe me a monster no better than Voldemort? He uses his follows, consumes them and casts them aside when their usefulness is done," spat Albus.

"Sometimes, you seem… _**focused**_…." Minerva admitted slowly.

The two of them had been friends for many years and lovers for a brief time. But as fellow warriors in this war for far too long, Minerva would be nothing less than completely honest with Albus. Someone needed to be truthful with him, no matter how bitter a pill it would be for the mage to swallow.

"_**Focused**_?" Albus whispered. He sounded sickened.

"_**Obsessed**_ with the Greater Good," she slowly finished. "I can't blame you for your single-mindedness, Albus. But sometimes, I wonder if you truly see me as a person anymore, Albus."

"_**What**_?" he questioned in a soft voice. "What do you mean? How do you think that I see you?"

"Am I a person to you, Albus? Or am I merely a game piece?" Minerva's voice was challenging, and she met his eyes, stare for stare.

To her surprise, Albus did not protest her frankness. Instead, he looked… uncomfortable.

"He believed that too, you know," Albus admitted, his sincere regret painful to her ears. "He believed that I didn't care for him, that he was nothing more than a tool in the greater scheme."

"Severus?" Minerva questioned, though truthfully, it could be no one else.

"He craved… reassurances that I cared for him, Minerva. The boy was fey, as though he had witnessed his own death over and over again. He pleaded…and I was so weak, Minerva. Weak. I get… so _**lonely**_… you know that…" Albus whispered.

The witch swallowed once, and nodded her head.

"Aye, I know that you do, Albus. So tell me, what did you do?"

"Severus wanted me to have my way with him. Minerva, it mattered not to him if he got no enjoyment from our coupling… just that for one night, he wasn't alone. He broke my heart… Minerva… He wanted me to bed him, to use and abuse him. Am I that _**focused**_, Minerva? Am I so zealous that Severus would believe me lacking in basic human compassion? He asked me to _**use**_ him for my own enjoyment."

"So you bedded him," Minerva's voice was free from censure. "I know you were gentle, Albus, and that it was consensual between you two."

Albus' tense shoulders were still rigid, and he sighed.

"I worried, Minerva, I thought you might believe that I took advantage of him," he admitted.

Minerva snorted her disbelief over that thought.

"I remember our affair, Albus. I seem to recollect that I had to proposition you," she gently retorted. Her voice grew strident as she continued, "_**Repeatedly**_!"

"That you did, Minerva," he admitted. "Severus seemed… amazed… that the relentless, obsessed Albus Dumbledore could be… considerate… in bed."

"I always found you to be the most thoughtful of my lovers," Minerva easily admitted. "For you, taking someone to your bed was never just about the sexual intercourse, Albus. Most men focus on their own enjoyment first. You never did, as your partner's enjoyment was paramount."

"You're making me blush, Madam," Albus softly interjected, his tone light, though his cheeks were ruddy.

"Albus, I truly cherish those moments of us in bed together."

"Now, I _**am**_ blushing," Albus retorted.

She put her hand on his face, forcing him to look into her green eyes.

"Those stolen moments in bed were the only time that you allowed yourself to forget about the War, Albus. You couldn't even focus on yourself during those rare moments, no, Albus, you had to be continuing giving of yourself. I wanted to help shoulder your burden, Albus, to give you a moment's respite where you didn't have to be in control of_**everything**_. I wanted so desperately to give you joy, Albus, and you wouldn't let me."

Dumbledore flinched and pulled away from her.

"Minerva, he told me that he loved me," he whispered.

The witch said not a word, and merely waited for him to continue. She didn't need to speak, as Albus instinctively comprehended her silence.

"You _**knew**_?" Albus shakily protested.

"It was obvious… for someone who was once in his shoes, Albus," Minerva reminded him. "There is no doubt in my mind that you acted no better than when I said those three words to you."

"I told him that it was a mistake," the Head Master slowly admitted. "I wanted to protect him, as I've destroyed everything that I have ever loved, Minerva. I nearly damaged _**you**_, my dearest friend."

"He didn't take it well, did he?" Minerva softly questioned. "Our lonely little Slytherin finally getting his heart's desire and you had to get all noble and self-sacrificing on him. I remember that I was so vexed with you, I nearly hexed your beard into never-ending, un-unknottable Gordian Knots."

She laughed easily, for her pique had long since faded over the years into a gentle, loving friendship with the tormented man in front of her.

"Severus was… devastated, believing that I had rejected him, but he was still determined to put on an uncaring pretense. I gave him time to cool off, went to his quarters in order to talk to him, and I found his room in utter shambles. I worry, Minerva," his voice slowed.

"It's not your fault that Severus got abducted." Minerva's voice was no-nonsense.

"Perhaps, if I had walked him back to his quarters… If I hadn't pushed him away to protect him… if I had just kept him in my bed for longer….If I had just fallen asleep, and hadn't heard him admit his feelings…" whispered Albus. "If I had done half a dozen things differently…"

"If you hadn't taken him to your bed, he most likely would have still been abducted," Minerva reminded him. "At least you gave him something that he wanted desperately."

"I have to find him, Minerva," Albus insisted.

"You _**will**_," she assured him.

For good measure, she hugged Albus, and he clung to her desperately.

* * *

No matter how often he had experienced the Cruciatus Curse, Severus always foolishly convinced himself that next time, it would not hurt quite as much. The pain would be slightly less excruciating, as he would have become accustomed to the brain synapses splitting pain.

Severus always knew that the pain would end, later rather than sooner, because it was necessary to keep him alive.

That assurance was long gone now, as Voldemart had determined his role of double… no… triple… no… quadruple agent?

The pain came; starting in his feet… it always started there… until it crescendoed in a literal vortex of pain with him at the center.

He, once again, needlessly protested his innocence to the Dark Lord. Severus calmly stated that he had been framed by other jealous Death Eaters who had failed in their own personal assignments. Crabbe… Goyle… dare he mention Lucious Malfoy and the utter cockup at the Ministry?

He decided that the best way to convince the Dark Lord of the possibility of a mistake was by continuously protesting his innocence.

"I am not Lucius. I have not FAILED you. I did not end in Akzaban where I am unable to follow your commands. I listen! I obey!"

Like he expected, it didn't work. He'd have to keep repeating his claims of being innocent, over and over again, never adding anything that they might use against him.

"I obey! I listen! I have not FAILED you!"

The pain overwhelmed him, robbing him of his sight, the ability to think, as he spewed and spewed the little he had eaten of Christmas dinner. It _**hurt**_, hurt so bad, and the pain was unceasing, increasing long past his high tolerance of pain.

Severus tried not to weep, not willing to shame himself further. His body betrayed him though, as he couldn't prevent himself from soiling himself. It had never happened before… and the pain still swelled.

"Mercy," he pleaded. "_**Mercy**_…"

They would show him no compassion, for they were sharks, filled with blood lust as one of their own lay easy prey.

But then the pain stopped, and Severus prostrated himself before the Dark Lord. For good measure, he even kissed the floor close to the Dark Lord's foot.

"I won't let you die, Severus. I have such delightful plans for you. Return him to his cell," the Dark Lord snapped.

The Dark Lord touched Severus' face with one clammy hand as several Death Eaters roughly pulled him to his feet.

"It's a shame, Severus. Albus doesn't _**care**_at all about his wayward spy, you know. He's already boxed your things, put them in storage, and… _**replaced**_ you at Hogwarts with that werewolf. You haven't even been gone for a _**day**_, Severus. It seems that your sainted Albus had his own doubts and had already decided that you were easily replaceable."  
_**  
**__Lupin. Albus had replaced him with LUPIN?_

"By a _**werewolf**_. Severus, I'd be embarrassed if I was unlucky enough to be you. Then again… you stick of your own piss and vomit, so you _**should**_ be mortified." The Dark Lord laughed.

His followers cackled also, and so they continued to gleefully laugh as they dragged him to his cell.

Severus wasn't strong enough to stand, and he landed on the stone floor after he was pushed through the cell door. His graceless collapse earned another round of hyena type laughter. So tired…he couldn't even clean himself with wandless magic, and his jailers weren't the type to be bothered to clean another man's fluids off him.

_Albus had been.__His hands had been gentle when he had cleaned Severus, his voice soft, assuring Severus that he wasn't to be ashamed.  
_  
In the corner of the cell, where there was a blanket… well… it once was his robe… but now it was a blanket, and he needed to call it as such. Surviving required that he actually put anyway any false hopes, remembrances of what had been, could have been and should be, instead, he needed to focus on staying alive. Severus painfully inched his way over to his nest. Hidden beneath his blanket, there was an emerald green sock emblazoned with serpents playing a game of Quidditch. He found it, tightly clutching it in his hands before he slipped into an exhausted slumber.

* * *

They'd wake him; Cruciatus Curse him until he was screaming and then question him repeatedly until he was unconscious, and then repeat the cycle. Sometimes, he'd be allowed to eat or drink, but those times were infrequent, and at irregular intervals. The irregular feedings and waterings were the Death Eater's way to keep their prisoners unbalanced, to make their prisoners wonder how long they had been a captive.

If that didn't break him and _**soon**_, they'd start a new ploy.

But for now, Severus repeatedly assured them of his innocence and gave them what useless information he dared. They beat him when they found his intel was outdated, but he snarkily protested that he wasn't a very useful double agent considering he was in the Dark Lord's dungeon. His snark earned him a double round of Cruciatus Curses, plus a black eye.

He woke when someone placed their hands over his parched lips.

"Shhhhhh, Severus," said a familiar voice.

Blearily, he opened his eyes; saw a set of sky blue eyes and a loud, clashing set of robes. The man's long beard rubbed against Severus' face, and the smell of his cologne was familiar.

_**Albus?**_

"Merlin's beard, they've hurt you, Severus," Albus whispered. "You talk, but _**quietly**_. We're getting you out. First, let me help you. Drink this."

Albus put a cold flask next to his lips, and Severus refused to drink it. His mind was screaming that Dumbledore wouldn't be here.

They had long agreed upon the simple fact that no rescue would be forthcoming.

"Drink it," Albus ordered. "Horace prepared it. I'm sure you could do better, but it will do for now."

Severus refused, keeping his mouth closed and Dumbledore pinched Severus' nose shut with an exasperated sigh about Stubborn Slytherins. Finally, Severus had to open his mouth to gasp for breath and Albus poured it down his throat.

The potion was bitter and nasty, and it made his head spin.

"Quickly, Severus, you didn't tell them anything. Did you?" Albus intently questioned. "What did you tell them? Did you tell them about our plan to defeat the Dark Lord? I need to know, what did you tell him?"

Unexpectedly, Severus had the urge to chat, but '_**to defeat the Dark Lord'**_ rang in his ears. Albus never called the Dark Lord that. He was one of the few brave or stupid enough to call him Voldemort. Plus, what the hell was he wearing?

Dress Robes? Loud, clashing spangled dress robes? That silly little hat that was perched on his head? All this? For a clandestine operation that Albus would never authorize?

"You're _**not**_ Albus," he shakily protested. "He'd _**never**_ rescue me."

He earned a round house punch to his head for his troubles, and he found himself on his side, staring blearily at the walls that were fading in and out of focus. Blood trickled from his nose, and he closed his eyes.

Best not look at the wall, as he'd spew all over the non-Albus' fancy dress robes, which would probably earn him another round of Curses.

"Actually, Severus Snape, I _**am**_ Albus." Albus held out his pocket watch and grinned. "For the next fifty minutes I am, at least. I'm going to show you how much like Albus Dumbledore I truly am. _**Confundo**_, Severus!"

Albus… the non Albus… positioned him on his stomach and bound him. He was so confused, his mind was screaming, and Severus couldn't think…Albus' robe dropped to the stone floor, he felt the weight of Albus on top of him, and he bit his lip so not to cry out when he first felt Albus thrust inside him.

It hurt…

It hurt so _**bad**_…

He was being stretched… torn…

Severus closed his eyes, trying to pretend that he was anywhere but there, but he knew what was happening. He was being brutally topped on a dirty, stone floor, Albus' weight slamming into him. When "Albus" came with a loud shout and one last thrust, Severus nearly wept his relief.

"Merlin's bloody scrote, what a _**ride**_. I'm surprised Dumbledore hasn't done more to get his whore back," growled Albus. "But don't you worry; we'll have time for at least one more ride before I change back."

* * *

Albus came to his cell frequently.

He _**mentally**_ knew it wasn't Albus, but _**emotionally**_, it was hard to disconnect the fear and desperation that overloaded his sanity. Every time that Albus "visited" him, he'd feel that brief, irrational flash of hope that he was being rescued and then reality would come crashing down.

Severus wasn't sure how often Albus visited, as his food and water laced with assorted drugs, some to make him pliable, others to making his breaking easier and some other drugs… he thought he might have known their uses, a long, long time ago in another life.

Sometimes, Albus was dark and brooding, and semi-transparent at best. He'd pace the length of Severus' cell while Severus watched in bemused, confounded disbelief. The translucent Albus seemed … frantic… which made Severus giggle.

_I am still searching for you, I promise. Where are you? If you could only tell me, I could find you, Severus.  
_  
One time he had answered, "I'm here! I'm here!"; hysterically laughing at the absurdity at conversing with a figment of his imagination, but naturally,the imaginary Albus never heard him.

Then there were the physical apparitions of Albus. One was quiet and took great pains to heal his physical wounds, and offer him comfort. To his shame, Severus often found himself wishing to lean against that Albus; to let him protect him as the faux Albus promised that he would.

It would be so _**easy**_ to let something slip, something innocent, something that mattered not at all in the grand scheme of things, something that would earn him the promised reward of a real blanket rather than a tattered robe.

Yet, still, Severus refused to bend.

Other times, Dumbledore was angry and abusive, creatively hexing him until Severus' throat was raw from his screams.

But no matter if was the gentle Albus or the abusive Albus, Severus always ended in the same position.

On his belly, while Albus rode him hard, delighting and relishing in his pain. His flesh _**ripped**_and_**tore**_ even as he screamed and screamed. His voice broke, and still he shrieked, his legendary self-control shattered.

_It wasn't supposed to be like this. Albus' hands had been gentle… not brutal and violent. Hadn't Albus been different?_

_That one time? Had that been a dream?_

"Open your mouth, Severus." Albus ordered.

Moaning, he protested, not wanting to feel another cock fill his mouth, to choke and gag on their fluids in his mouth. His refusal to open his mouth earned Severus pain, incredible pain, so finally he opened his mouth, praying that this time he wouldn't choke.

It wasn't flesh in his mouth, no; instead, it was a wand.

"Come on, Sev, you know what to do with a wizard's wand in your mouth. Suck it boy, suck it good."

Like bloody hell was he going to suck a wooden wand, but it mattered not to Albus who seemed determined to choke and gag him with the wand. After a few minutes, Albus laughed.

"The Dark Lord's going to be so delighted with you, Severus."

And that was possibly the most frightening statement Severus had heard during this entire nightmare.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not my Characters.

Disclaimer #2: Noncon.

Remus Lupin's return to the classroom was greeted with both relief and fear, _**relief**_ being the majority of his students' reactions. The house of Gryffindor (a.ka. Harry, Hermoine and the various Weasleys) was ecstatic, and he couldn't help but feel pride in their response. It was a great failing of his, as he did so enjoy being liked. _Fear_ was mainly his own reaction, as he had royally screwed up his last time at the school, and he'd dare not forget his Wolfsbane again.

Pacing the classroom one afternoon before the students returned from their winter break, he couldn't help but find his eyes being drawn to the assorted paintings of various curses. Funny, he never before noticed that the poor soul that was being Cruciated looked so much like Severus. Long, dark hair, dark eyes, wide open, tears pouring down his face while he screamed and screamed.

He shivered, and wished that once more Albus had let him take down the damn things.

_I do not want to listen to Severus when he returns and he finds out that I not only replaced him as an instructor, but redid his classroom decor._

_Errr… Albus… some of us really believe that he's gone back to the Dark Side_… was the first comment that had immediately popped into Remus' mind._… Err…if he didn't go willingly, do you really think that there will be enough left of him to be able to bitch? _had been the second.

Wisely, he had kept his mouth closed, though Albus had given him a lopsided smile, and his blue eyes had not twinkled at all as they had peered at him over Albus' half moon spectacles.  
_  
Remus, I know what you're thinking.__Thank you for not saying it out loud._

Truth be told, Remus and more than a few other staff members were a bit concerned about Dumbledore and his reaction to Snape's disappearance. He was acting a bit barmy; serving Severus' favorite cake for the staff members that had been in resident, on what was Severus' birthday. Tradition demanded that there was always a special desert for the faculty on staff birthdays, and Dumbledore refused to break from the time honored ritual, though Severus' chair was now occupied by Remus Lupin.

Remus was barely able to choke down his Eccles Cake, Filius made no effort to taste it and only Hagrid and Albus consumed the delicacy with anything close to their normal enthusiasm and gusto.

"Eat," Albus commanded, his voice stern in disapproval. "Severus will be quite disappointed that he missed this. Eccle Cakes are his favorite."

Minerva took a bite of the cake, and began chewing. She nodded her head toward Filius as though encouraging him to support Albus' folly, and the Charms Instructor warily nibbled at the edge of his Eccles Cake. Filius swallowed his piece, murmured how delicious the treat had been, and then caused the desert to disappear off his plate through slight of hand.

"They're quite good, aren't they?" Albus questioned. "When Severus returns…"

There was a long moment of stunned silence, and Albus nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Very well, _**if**_…," Albus' voice held a note of censure for his staff's unwillingness to trust in Severus. "If the dear boy returns from his recent sabbatical, I will ask the House Elves to serve it his first night back."

* * *

Whatever revelations the wand had revealed after Severus had sucked on it had been happily received by captors. They had Scourgified him repeatedly until his raw, abused skin had cracked and bled, magnanimously clothed him in an oversized black robe instead of his tattered rags, and wonders of wonders, they had decided to give him a real bed. 

A real bed.

With a mattress. A pillow. Blankets.

But Severus hated the bed.

As Albus would _**take**_ him on the bed.

It was better than the cold floor, because at least he had some padding beneath him when Albus pounded into him at least four times a day. Albus did so enjoy a good pounding, and Severus had quickly learned the need to appear properly… enthused… when Albus arrived at his cell. If Severus was lively and quick, Dumbledore wouldn't hurt him... well… not as much…well only slightly less… then if he was fearful and afraid. It was a matter of degrees, Severus believed. His pride was tarnished enough, so selling his dignity for an easement of his physical pain was cheap coin indeed.

Albus visited him regularly both spiritually and physically.

Severus had begun to prefer the physical manifestations rather than the psychic. He hated when the glowering, transparent Albus made an appearance in his haunted dreams. One would think that after experiencing hell during his waking hours that his dreams might be slightly pleasanter.

No, the image often soundly berated him for not being more helpful.

"I can't find you, lad. Are you _**that**_ angry with me?" Albus questioned, his voice full of displeasure.

"No," Severus whimpered.

The last time a similar question to that had been asked, Severus hadn't answered fast enough. He had gotten Curcio'd followed by a swift bone cracking kick to his ribs for not answering properly. So Severus knew what needed to be said.

"Never mad at Albus!_**Never**_!"

Yes, he sounded like a possessed House Elf, but proper grammar be damned if it prevented a blow from falling or a hex from being used.

He put his hands over his face in a feeble attempt to hide from the angry Albus.

_If I can't see him, Albus can't see me!_ His shattered psyche insisted though logically, he knew it was a fallacy. But since he was now surviving on sheer adrenalin and not much else; his thinking was not as logical as it had once been.

"If you were taken unwillingly, wouldn't you be making an effort to escape?" Albus questioned. "I am not sensing any magical disturbance that might convince me that you are an _**unwilling**_ captive."

"I tried… I tried… I tried…"He pleaded for Albus to believe him, his voice cracking in his sincerity. "I can't… my magic… my wand…They hurt me so…"

His first desperate attempt at escape had spectacularly failed. Severus had somehow overpowered Albus, grabbed the imposter's wand and shouted, _**Incarcerous**_!

The expected ropes had failed to materialized, and even as he was still screaming the curse over and over again, the original faux Albus and several more fake Albuses had overpowered him. It had been a trap, he later realized, because he doubted that they had five polyjuiced Albuses standing around waiting for such an occurrence. They had deliberately arranged the scene, so he'd know that his magical ability had been compromised.

"You're a kinky bugger, Severus. I never knew you like ropes so much," said the Albus in a bright, scarlet outfit.

The Albuses had meticulously restrained him and then they had repeatedly ridden him while he whimpered and screamed. When they had their pleasure, they then had left him in the dark. Naturally, Severus had panicked, as he feared being confined and restrained.

He was easy prey.

They'd find him; Lupin, Potter, Pettigrew and that cur Black, hurt him and Albus would just shrug it off with a condescending, 'Boys will be boys, Mr. Snape'. His capturers had left him hogtied for hours… days perhaps, and by the time they had returned to release him, physically, he had only succeeded in further tightening the knots due to his frenzied attempts to escape. Mentally, Severus had realized how close he was to completely cracking up.

"I know you don't believe me, I tried, I tried so hard, Headmaster," Severus earnestly pleaded to the stern Headmaster. "Why don't you _**ever**_ believe me? I was avoiding those damnable Marauders… like you told me to do… and they found me…I was hiding in the library, and they found me! They tore my books! _**My books**_! My mother will beat me because she can't afford to replace them! "

Severus realized that once again he was getting quite confused between the past, the present and the future, what had happened and what would happen. He began giggling, and he couldn't stop even as he began to weep.

"Why don't you ever protect _**me,**_Headmaster?" He reached for Albus, his voice beseeching, and then Severus pulled his hand away.

_Never touch Albus. He was not worthy to touch Albus._

His dream Albus reacted strangely, and the phantom knelt down next to him. With a curiously gentle gesture, Albus gently stroked his tearstained cheek.

"Easy, lad. I'll replace the books," Albus promised. "Don't you worry about them."

"You _**will**_?" Severus intently questioned, plainly disbelieving his good fortune.

"Yes. We had Eccles cakes tonight, Severus. For your birthday, you know. I'm afraid that most of the staff members think I'm quite barmy for celebrating your birthday, but it wouldn't be_**proper**_ to let your birthday go by unremarked and unnoticed. I know you're alive, Severus," Albus admitted. "I must confess my rather daft belief to you, that in these bizarre conversations of ours, I'm actually _**talking**_ to you."

"Eccles cakes?" Severus's voice quivered slightly. His mouth watered at the very idea of that tasty treat.

"Yes, for your _**birthday**_, Severus," Albus reminded him.

"My mother made them for me… when I was good," Severus slowly admitted. They had been the rarest of treats as he was such a wicked, wicked boy!

"Oh lad, you've been so good. When I find you, and I bring you home, everyone at Hogwarts will have Eccles cakes to celebrate," softly promised Albus.

"Not Potter," Severus childishly insisted. "Just the _**Slytherins**_. They can have Eccles cakes."

"You don't want everyone to have Eccles Cakes to celebrate your return?" Albus gently questioned.

"_**No**_, just Slytherins…. " Severus doggedly insisted. "Everyone will be jealous, as the Slytherins got Eccles cakes and they didn't. Everyone will _**know**_ that you like us, _**too**_."

"Severus, do you truly believe that I don't care about my Slytherins?" The Headmaster's voice was soft when he asked that question.

"If you truly cared, you wouldn't let _**them**_ hurt me," Severus stated. He glared at Albus' visage and then added his final accusation. "_**You**_ wouldn't hurt me."

"Severus, how are you being hurt?" Albus questioned.

The phantom put his phantom hand on Severus' shoulder and gently rubbed it.

The Slytherin shook his head, refusing to answer. His attempts at avoiding the question upset his spirit Albus, and so the phantom Headmaster doggedly continued to press the issue. Severus attempted to evade, dissemble, dither and quibble, but at last, he revealed what physical and magic abuse he was currently experiencing at Albus' hand and wand.

Again, he raised his hands to cover his face, in a futile attempt to protect himself from Albus' magic. The Headmaster would be so angry at him for his lies, because good Headmasters never physically and sexually abused their students, especially not Albus Dumbledore. Head Master Dumbledore would be furious and naturally, he'd hurt Severus for repeating such horrible, horrific lies.

Maybe he'd even _**expel**_ Severus.

"My dear, dear boy," Albus softly whispered. "Oh my dear, dear boy."

Severus hesitantly looked at Albus, peering at the headmaster from behind his fingers of his hands and the Slytherin was horrified to realize that his ghost was weeping.

"I know it's _**not**_ you," Severus insisted. "You were gentle with me… weren't you? I think you were… but I can't truly remember. Did we? Were we?"

His Albus had been gentle with him… hadn't he? He couldn't remember. Hadn't his Albus been so disappointed in what a wicked person he was? Hadn't he sent Severus away because of the Slytherin's impudence?

"Yes, we made love, Severus," Albus admitted. "Only the one time, I'm afraid, on Christmas night. You were so intense and determined to focus on only my enjoyment. I didn't merit such a precious gift from you."

Albus began stroking Severus' long, greasy hair, and Severus began shaking in fear.

His Albus…no…Albus wasn't his…never his… the real Albus had_** never**_ touched him like this.

"Get away, spirit!" Severus screamed. "You're not Albus. You're not _**him**_! Think you can fool me, Lucius, with your honeyed tongue, your promises of Eccles cakes? You are _**NOT**_ him!"

"Severus, I _**am**_ Albus," the vision insisted.

"You may be Albus, but you are not the true Albus, Goyle! He cares not one speck for me. I am a_**tool**_ to him. A tool is made to be _**used**_. Once broken, a tool is discarded and is easily replaced! I was a tool to Albus. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You were never just a tool to me, Severus Tobias Snape. You weren't only an instrument in my war, nor were you a device for my own sexual gratification," Albus insisted. "If I believed that you were merely a tool, I would never have taken you to my bed. You wanted me to _**use**_ you and I tried to reassure you that you were worthy of far more than continual abuse and more exploitation."

"Not Albus!" Severus insisted. His voice grew frantic, and he began clawing at his face. "Not! _Not_!_**Not**_!"

"You are a stubborn git, Severus Snape," Albus snapped. "Not a tool, Severus, but a stubborn, obstinate man. There's no crime in that, yet your prison is of your own making."

Severus began loudly screaming, "Not Albus! _**NOT ALBUS**_!" and there were sounds outside of his cell door. The guards were returning to investigate the noise, and Severus began to panic. "Go! GO! If they find you here, they'll HURT YOU!"

Albus stared at him, and Severus pleaded with him to leave.

"They'll hurt you, Albus! They'll hurt you! Go! Go!"

Albus woke from his dreams with a start. Looking at the clock on the wall, he pondered if it was too late to Floo call Minerva for a chat. It was, but to hell with it, he was the Head Master of the school. Rank had some privileges, though not many.

He flew the Floo powder into the floo, and called for Minerva.

"Albus, do you any comprehension of what time it is?" Minerva's voice snippily asked from the green fire.

"Minerva, I need to talk. I just had the strangest dream, and I believe that I just told off Severus Snape."

"I'll be there in just a minute. Call for tea, Albus."

* * *

His guards had been furious with him, and so they had Cursed him repeatedly. When he stopped screaming, their fun was over. They so enjoyed hearing him scream, and when they reduced him to a weeping wreck, they knew that would be no more entertainment from the shattered shell of Severus Snape. With a disgusted sigh, and a final, sharp kick to his healing ribs, the guards left him. 

Severus continued to sob for a bit, and then pulled himself over to his bed. He still had his special sock hidden away and he quickly confirmed that it was still there in its secret place. His shaking hands took it out of its hiding spot, stroked it for reassurance that it was real, and then he put it away.

It was his present from Albus, and he needed to keep it safe.

Albus gave out socks and scarves to Slytherins. Nothing more.

Yes, Severus decided. They had almost impersonated Albus too well that he had been fooled. But they had gone too far in their impersonation of Albus, and had crossed a line that had revealed their duplicity.

The Real Albus had never stroked his hair nor had he ever petted and caressed Severus. Not even on that special Christmas night had Albus done such a thing.

When Severus was a young student at Hogwarts, he had craved that intimate contact long before he had comprehended the true meaning of painful taunts such as queer, gay, pillow biter.

When at last true understanding regarding his sexuality had been his, Severus' desire for Albus' touch had unwaveringly endured, but yet it still had changed. It was no longer something of which to be ashamed; it was not a disgraceful desire that he could only crave when he was at his weakest. Men could and **did** have sex with other men.

And during the long, lonely nights spent in his bed in the Slytherin dorms, a small, nagging voice wondered if such men included … _**Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…**_

But he was a student, and Albus a man of principle, so there was never the faintest whiff of impropriety.

When he had returned to Hogwarts as an instructor, Severus had wondered if perhaps then, if Albus was so inclined, he might see that the boy had become a man. A grown man possessing unique tastes and desires, who had been thoroughly educated in various sexual techniques that might prove highly pleasurable to even such a worldly man as Albus.

Sometimes, during a staff meeting, when Albus was busy being Albus, Severus couldn't prevent himself from longingly staring. Albus wasn't particularly handsome; his taste in robes was sometimes wincingly bad and his body was… soft… but he was so compassionate, so caring….

And Severus had pondered what would it be like to bed Albus.

No doubt Albus had gentle, deft hands, but would the Gryffindor ever willingly lower himself to bed a lonely Slytherin?

Well, it matter not at all to Severus if Albus touched him, because he would willingly focus on Albus' complete gratification. In his foolishness, in his arrogance, Severus had thought that if Albus ever did take him to his bed, that the Head Master would enjoy his well honed technique. Perhaps, if his sexual performance and stamina sufficiently impressed Albus… perhaps Albus would look more favorably upon the man than he had upon the student.

Yet, when the long hoped for moment had finally arrived, _**Albus**_ had to take a nervous Severus by the hand… _**Albus**_ had to soothe and reassure… _**Albus**_had been the one to kiss and touch.

Severus had a tendency of taking a particular chair in a dark corner, far away from the other instructors, so his yearning was hidden by shadows… or so he thought, until that one horrible day when Minerva had glanced his way, and she had realized the truth.

Instead of mocking him and his foolishness, Minerva had taken pity on him, and had brought him to her quarters. Just for a finger or two of scotch after a long meeting, she had claimed.

Effortlessly, she had seduced him, leaving him stunned and astonished by that particular experience.

Severus had long since accepted the unmistakable fact that he was homosexual. He didn't like women **that** way, and Minerva McGonagall, bastion of Gryffindor Values, was far too terrifying a figure to for him to ever imagine her undressed. Yet Minerva had gently led him through the experience, allowing him to keep his young, foolish pride intact while she ensured that both got their enjoyment. In that magical interlude, he had realized that the witch was, in fact, breathtakingly beautiful, inside and out.

Later in the afterglow, he had lain in her arms, and he had been feeling… awkward… over what had occurred, Minerva had known exactly how to put him at ease. The witch gently stroked his long, black hair and then Minerva had thanked him, **THANKED** him, for a wonderful experience.

"Tomorrow, we'll go back to our usual facades," she had insisted. "You'll skulk through the castle, with your black robes billowing behind you, frightening our little first years. Meanwhile, I'll be the prissy old maid. We'll mock and scorn each other, while everyone wishes that we'd just get along."

"I don't want to go back to _**that**_," he whispered.

"We won't, dear heart, not when we're together like this," she promised. "But… outside this room, nothing can change."

He had almost fallen asleep when Minerva McGonagall had spoken again.

"Don't fall in love with him, Severus. You'll only end with your heart broken." Her voice was tender and compassionate, free from the ridicule he feared.

Severus had stiffened, and she had continued to stroke his hair. Then Minerva leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Albus has his war to fight, you know. He doesn't allow himself the luxury of human emotions. Loving Albus… is like loving the sea, Severus. You can't help but love the sea, but it takes no notice of you," Minerva softly explained. "It took me a great deal of time to realize that."

Her confession surprised him, and she had kissed him again.

"Don't worry; he doesn't know how you feel. He's rather dull-witted like that," Minerva gently explained.

"Just once," he whispered, unable to hide his longing. He was the epitome of rudeness, admitting that he desired someone else even while he lay in Minerva's loving arms. "Just **once**…"

"I know, I know. My lonely little Slytherin wishes for one special night with Albus…" her voice was soothing.

"No, I wish that just once I knew that he cared for me…" Severus slowly admitted.

"He_**does**_," Minerva insisted.

"No, not like he cares for his Golden Gryffindors… Just once… just **once**…" Severus confessed. "I'd thought once that I could earn his regard. After all I had protected that damnable Potter and his friends from Lupin. I had warned him that the werewolf was dangerous. I knew he couldn't be trusted to take his Wolfsbane. I defended them against **that**…."

He paused and Minerva continued to stroke his hair.

"Then, that damnable Sirius Black was captured. I thought then….that I HAD earned his regard. I helped capture the man who had betrayed Lily. I was to be given the Order of Merlin. My mother… my mother…" His voice grew shaky and he paused before he continued. "She would have been so proud. I could have taken back the shame I inflicted on her by the stupidity of my youth…"

"He didn't care… you know… Lupin attempted to murder me once again… and Albus didn't spare me the slightest concern…" Severus' voice broke and he stopped talking. "When the Dark Lord kills me… Albus won't care. He'll have to find a new spy… and then… only then… will he at last, appreciate his Severus' undying loyalty. Perhaps then, he might care."

"He does care, Severus," Minerva insisted.

"Not for me," whispered Severus. "Never for me."

In his prison cell, Severus Snape realized anew that the lonely little boy with dark hungry eyes should have been content with socks and scarves. He never should have dreamed for more.

* * *

Albus recited his experience to Minerva, detailing every subtle nuance. The witch listened dispassionately, until he explained how Severus was being abused. 

"He says that you… sodomized… him?" Her voice was a soft whisper.

"Among other indecencies," Albus admitted slowly. "At some parts in our conversation, he seemed quite convinced it was me that was abusing him. Other times, Severus claimed it wasn't."

"You said that he seemed disorientated?" Minerva questioned.

"Yes, he seemed confused exactly when it was. He'd talk about the Marauders, what they had done to him as though it just happened, and then he mentioned Christmas night. He was uncertain if what occurred between us…" Albus stopped talking and shook his head.

"It was consensual," Minerva inserted. "I also know that you wouldn't hurt the boy."

Albus sighed, and looked away from her.

"Thank you for your faith in me. I don't feel it is very well earned," Albus quietly stated.

"You have said nothing to me that can convince me that you did talk to him. This sounds like a very bad dream, Albus. Nothing more," Minerva decided. "Your dream eye is fixated on current events, so that is what you are dreaming."

"I didn't mention the Eccles cakes," Albus whispered. "I told him that when he returned, everyone would have Eccles cakes for desert."

Minerva quirked one eyebrow.

"As he missed his birthday desert, I thought it only fair. He requested that only the Slytherins be given the treat." Albus paused, gathering his courage before he continued.

"And?" Minerva prompted. "How did he say it?"

"Everyone will be jealous, as the Slytherins got Eccles cakes and they didn't. Everyone will _**know**_ that you like us, _**too,"**_ quoted Albus.

"Merlin's beard," Minerva whispered. "You spoke to him. But what is the rhyme and reason behind this? If He Who Must Not Be Named knew Severus betrayed him, he wouldn't be keeping him alive. His magic isn't readily available to him, so the loss could be temporarily due to the shock and trauma of what he's experienced…"

"He'd be dead by now," Albus agreed. "He's not using Severus as an example, either. It's just deliberate, systematic torture of Severus using my countenance. I wish I knew what evil Tom was crafting."

* * *

The next morning started off much like every other morning. A rather thorough pounding by Albus which left him sore and aching. 

After his violation was concluded and Albus finally had his pleasurable release, the faux Albus ran his fingers through Severus' long, greasy hair, petting him and caressing him. He kissed and fondled Severus, softly whispering about what a horrid little boy Severus was, and how Dumbledore truly regretted punishing him, but it would only stop if Severus made an effort to behave better!

"Oh, my dear Severus, I care so much for you," the artificial Albus assured him. "You do know that I care?"

"Yes," Severus swiftly agreed, for failure to quickly answer this particular question meant pain. "You _**care**_."

The sham Albus continued to stroke his hair, and then Albus kissed him on his cheek.

"My dear, dear boy," Albus whispered. "Even though you're such a wicked boy, I do love you… so I've decided to give you a very special present."

"Don't deserve… present..." Severus fearfully insisted, this was part of a far too familiar conversation that he always had with the physical Albus. "I'm…._**bad**_…"

"Don't be nervous, Severus. It's a wonderful, astonishing present! Can you guess what it is?" Albus questioned. His blue eyes were twinkling in delighted amusement.

If he didn't answer a question, they'd definitely Crucio him, so he attempted to quickly answer.

"Is it… _**socks**_?" He whispered, his hoarse voice cracking. "I like socks."

"_**SOCKS**_! No…no…it's something very special indeed! Guess again, my dear boy!"

"…Scarf?" Severus mouthed.

"Socks… scarf? I think not! Not for my special, special Severus. It's a wonderful present, and I can't wait to see your face when you realize what it is. I will be so pleased then because every time I look at you, I'll _**know**_ that I was the one that loved you enough to give such a special, exceptional gift to you," Albus promised.

Albus continued stroking his hair, and then sternly chastised him for not eating.

It was always Albus who fed him, who at all times acted as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be in Severus' prison cell. It was strange, Severus thought, that the Dark Lord was going through all this trouble with him. By rights, he should have been dead by now, for the Dark Lord was notoriously short fused with those that he believed that had betrayed him.

"Now_** eat**_." Albus demanded.

Severus shook his head.

"Come now, my dear, sweet Severus. It's very important to me that you're healthy!" The faux Albus insisted.

"I feel… queasy…" Severus protested. The previous meal had disagreed with him, and he had been fearful of vomiting. "I'm not hungry."

"Do you?" Albus grinned. "You feel sick to your stomach?"

Severus nodded his head.

"My poor, poor boy," Albus stated softly. "I'll bring you crackers next time. But at least, drink your juice, my dear boy. It's very important that you're healthy."

Albus softly laughed, and Severus nervously smiled.

"It's exceedingly imperative that you stay in the pink, Severus."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not my Characters.

Disclaimer #2: Noncon. Squick factor increased 10X, as yes, Not-willing-to-Admit has added a mpreg. Like I say in my bio, I'm not-willing-to-admit who I am.

* * *

His vomiting, once it started anew, was a literal cascade of puke. Secretly, Severus had to admit that he was quite chuffed that his spiritual Albus had to hastily jump away when Severus deliberately aimed his projectile toward Albus' soft suede boots. 

"Oh bloody hell, Albus, it's not like you're here," Severus tiredly protested, after the vomiting of whatever he had eaten had ended and only the absolutely wretched, retching dry heaves remained. "If you were bloody here, you wouldn't be wearing suede boots. The floor's muddy, and you are too much of a peacock to destroy your clothes."

Albus knelt next to him, and shook his head in bemusement when Severus helpfully pointed out that Dumbledore was ruining his fine, spangled silk robe.

"The vomiting might be due to a head injury," Albus softly stated. "Does your head hurt?"

"Yes, I've got quite the never-ending list of afflictions. I've got a headache. My back also is bothering me, no doubt due to my retching. I'm also… utterly… fatigued… besides seeing… _**hallucinations**_," snapped Severus. "Plus various bodily parts not normally mentioned in polite conversation are quite raw and uncomfortable, thanks to you and your unslakeable enthusiasm."

Least Severus attempted to snap, to use The Voice, the tone of which reduced seven years and Sybill Trelawney to tears, instead, his voice was more of a plaintive whisper. His hands compulsively clutched at the dirt floor, clawing and scraping.

"I was thinking…" Albus' voice was soft. Whether the ghost was real or just a figment of Severus' overactive imagination, the specter had quickly realized that his attempts at soothing Severus during his hauntings only unintentionally antagonized the lad.

"More fearsome words I have never heard spoken," Severus managed to gasp before he vomited once more.

Apparently, something had still lurked in his gut that desired escape.

"Easy. lad, _**easy**_," Albus whispered.

The phantom made as though to push Severus' lank hair back from the Slytherin's perspiring face, but Albus stopped before he got too close.

When the vomiting had ceased, and after Severus had wiped his mouth with his dirty hand in a feeble attempt to banish the bitter taste, he focused his attention on his specter.

"As you were saying, Albus?" Severus prompted. His tone was civil, even though he knew this Albus to be a delusion. Rudeness to the Physical Manifestations of Albus caused intense pain, so there was no reason to believe that telling the phantom to sod off wouldn't result in the same outcome.

"When you come back to the school, I can't have you teaching Defense," Albus explained.

"Naturally," Severus bitterly agreed. "You have your little furry golden boy in my spot. Was my seat even cold before you replaced me with the werewolf, Albus? The Dark Lord thought it quite amusing how quickly Remus substituted for me. I hadn't even vanished for more than a few hours, and you had boxed up my things. Did you build a big pyre and burn my prized possessions? The burning must have taken all of a few minutes, because I have so _**many**_ valuables."

The Slytherin grabbed his stomach, and pursed his lips. He licked his dry lips for a bit, and then he sighed.

"If you were the _**real**_ Albus Dumbledore, you'd be offering me a humbug right now," he tiredly protested. "Even _**you'd**_ know that peppermint might help settle my stomach."

"You wouldn't take it from me even if I could offer it to you. I have relentlessly offered you sweets for decades, Severus, and you have never accepted any. But Severus, the real reason why Remus is once more teaching at Hogwarts is because the students need instruction," Albus gently chided, though his blue eyes were pained.

"Yes, and there he was, waiting in the wings, your dear, sweet Remus. I hope someone is ensuring that the werewolf actually drinks his potion this time."

Albus nodded his head once.

"You trust Remus, though he's nearly killed me twice. _**TWICE**_, Albus. Both times, all you worried about was poor little Remus, not sparing any concern for the one he almost killed… _TWICE_. I thought you had finally decided to _**trust**_ me; that I had paid for my crimes sufficiently even to slack even the thirsty vengeance of upstanding, righteous, noble Albus Dumbledore. No, I should have known that you had your furry friend waiting in the wings, just in case the temptation grew too much for me and you had to sack me for everyone's protection"

The 'ghost' had found that by accepting Severus' rancorous comments without protest, the boy would often calm down enough to offer a diffident apology by the end of his haunting.  
_  
You're good, you know. You almost act like the Real Albus. He'd often let me have my say, knowing that at the end of my bitter tirade, I'd be a good little lap dog and beg his forgiveness for being such a vile creature. __I'm sorry for being such a hateful git, Albus._

"No, that's not the reason. But, you'll need time to heal and recover, Severus, and I don't believe that frightening first years will be conducive to that end. Minerva is constantly complaining that she has too much paperwork due to my shenanigans, and that I need to find her an assistant. Perhaps Assistant Deputy Headmaster might be a suitable position for you? It will be a non-teaching position, and I'll make Horace the full Head of Slytherin."

Severus began trembling, and he put his hands over his head. His obsidian eyes were haunted as he stared at Albus.

"Assistant Deputy Headmaster?" Severus softly whispered.

"You'd have to work with Minerva, I'm afraid, but on the positive side, there will be a substantial pay raise," Albus dryly admitted. "I believe that she misses you and your arguments about Quidditch. Naturally, she won't admit it to anyone, but I know her quite well."

"Rodolphus, Rodolphus," Severus hoarsely uttered. "You need to work harder on impersonating Albus. _**Assistant**__**Deputy Headmaster**_? You think that I would believe that Albus Dumbledore would offer such a position? To _**me**_?"

Severus began laughing. It was a rough laugh, and Severus continued chortling until he was sobbing.

"Rodolphus… Bellatrix was always the far more dangerous of the two of you, as she actually _**thinks**_," Severus spat out between his sobs. "Assistant Deputy _**Headmaster**_? Of _**Hogwarts**_? Albus didn't trust me enough to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, do you really believe that I'd consider for even one lousy second that he'd _**promote**_ me?"

Albus then put his hand on Severus' shoulder. The Slytherin reacted by cowering against the wall, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and Albus.

"Shall I roll over for you, Albus?" Severus questioned. "You've been remarkably patient."

"Listen to me, Severus Tobias Snape. I'm still searching for you," Albus promised. "I've taken the liberty of moving your mother to a new, safer location. She wasn't protected where she was. It's a much nicer facility, Severus."

"My mother? My _**MOTHER**_?" His voice broke while Severus screamed. "You stay away from her. Avada Kedavra! _AVADA KEDAVRA! __**AVADA KEDAVRA!"**_

Severus, realizing anew that he was bereft of magic, then launched himself at Albus, determined to gouge out his eyes and rebreak Albus' nose. He passed through the image, fell onto the floor with a thump, and Severus began weeping.

"You stay away from her, or I swear that I will kill you, Rodolphus. I _**will**_ kill you if it the last thing I ever do."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall greeted Albus warmly the next morning. The two instructors entered the Head Master's Office, so they could talk freely. The Head of Gryffindor took Albus' chin with her hand, and positioned him this way and that, and she shook his head in disapproval at what she saw in Albus' tired blue eyes. 

"Another visitation?" Her voice softly questioned. "You look like hell, Albus. You've got more bags under your eyes."

"He accused me of having Remus Lupin on retainer," Albus softly explained. "He also stated quite firmly his belief that I didn't trust him enough to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts Instructor, and that I had waited with delighted anticipation for the perfect opportunity to sack him. Once my ultimate goal was accomplished, I quickly had his personal affects boxed and burned in a merry pyre. This time, Severus did not mention that his belief that you did a celebratory dance around the fire wearing nothing but your long, flowing locks."

"How'd he look?" Minerva asked, refusing to acknowledge Albus' comment. "Was he _**better**_ than the last time you saw him?"

That visit had consisted of Albus talking to a mute Severus who had transfixedly stared at his prison cell walls.

"Not well. They haven't taken very good care of our boy, Minerva, as he was dirty and unkempt," softly admitted the Head Master. "I had rather feared that they had succeeded in shattering him but he seemed… _**stronger**_… last night as he was quite vexed with me."

Minerva smiled slightly, and Albus tilted his head.

"So you _**do**_ care, Minerva," Albus teased.

The witch flushed and nodded her head.

"I confess to a certain fondness for the boy, Albus," Minerva admitted with a wry tone. "Then again, I don't just take anyone to my bed. I'm not a tart, Albus; I do have my ethics and my standards that I must uphold."

Albus stopped walking in his surprise, and he shook his head.

"Minerva, how long? All these years, you two bickered and fought about… everything and anything," Albus teased. "And you two were busy… shagging!"

"It wasn't a love affair, Albus, if you're worried about that." Minerva easily answered. "His heart only belonged to one person. I took the boy to my bed because I understood him. Albus, the boy did everything except offer to turn down your bed for you, and you never comprehended in the slightest what he was offering you."

"Alas, Minerva, I understood exactly what he was offering," Albus softly admitted. "I deliberately chose not to acknowledge it. He deserves far better than me."

"But you didn't comprehend how much it cost him to make that offer," she retorted. "I told him not to fall for you because you have these damnable Crusades, these Herculean acts of penance for what harm you believe you caused Ariana and Abeforth, and… for Gellert."

"You told him about Ariana?" Albus' voice was cool and controlled. Anyone else might be fooled by his tone into believing that Albus was discussing an inconsequential such as the weather, but Minerva knew full well that Albus' emotional trauma over that painful incident had never healed.

"No," Minerva tenderly insisted, trying not to let her hurt caused by Albus' lack of faith in her to show in her tone. "I keep your secrets, Albus. I did tell him that you have only once unreservedly loved someone."

"I _**loved**_ you," Albus softly interrupted. His voice was as tender as a verbal caress.

"You loved me, yes, but not the way I deserved to be loved. Fortunately, I came to my senses rather quickly," Minerva tersely admitted.

Albus flinched as her words struck home, and Minerva placed her hand on his cheek.

"That was… unkind but not cruelly meant. My unrequited love for you is water under the bridge," she gently admitted. "But I warned the poor Slytherin about you. How you collect infatuated, lovelorn fools wherever you go, how you do absolutely nothing to give them any false hopes, and how you nobly refuse to take advantage of their obsessions."

"It didn't stop him, though," Albus calmly remarked.

"Didn't stop me," she teased. "Sev struggled so hard to earn your regard. A few kind words, thoughtlessly spoken by you, would find him elated."

"When did it start? This grand affair of yours?"

"After Sirius Black 'unexpectedly' escaped," Minerva admitted. "He wanted that Order of Merlin medal so badly. He thought with it, he'd earn your respect, and that his mother would be, at last, proud of him."

"His mother?" Albus questioned in a strange voice.

"Yes, Severus thought that with the Order of Merlin medal, he'd be able to take back all the pain the rash actions of his youth had caused her."

"His mother?" Albus repeated as though he wasn't sure that he heard Minerva correctly. "Does he ever talk to you about his mother?"

"Rarely, but he's never been exceedingly loquacious." Minerva paused, and stared intently at Albus. "Why? What should I know that I obviously have missed?"

"His mother is in a permanent vegetative state. Tobias Snape knocked her down a flight of steps shortly after Severus joined the staff here. Most of his salary goes toward her care. After recent events, I took it upon myself to visit her at the sanatorium." Albus hissed and shook his head. "It was not… a happy place, and her care was substandard, due to Severus, naturally, being in arrears and unable to pay this month's bill. I produced paperwork claiming that Severus had temporarily given me control over her affairs while he was on his 'sabbatical', and I removed her from that facility. I'm paying for her upkeep now, and will continue doing so for as long as I am able."

"Severus never told me that his mother was unwell," Minerva admitted.

"He spoke of it to me only because he needed a week's personal leave to oversee her initial admission to the sanitarium. Whenever I questioned him about his mother, he would only offer the barest of details. I understood it to be a rather painful subject for him, so I refused to compound his pain."

"Severus never speaks of what truly bothers him," Minerva said. "There's a lot of sound and bluster, banging and clanging of gongs, but what truly upsets him, Severus will not reveal."

"You seem to have a greater understanding of Severus than I do," Albus said.

"Well, yes, we were lovers on and off for the last three years. The first few years, I'd have to make the first move, but these last few months, he had become a bit more confident in seeking me out."

"Perhaps, my dear Minerva, he was falling for _**you**_," Albus gently suggested, with a merry twinkle in his blue eyes. "You are a remarkable witch."

Minerva, having been an instructor for far too many years, and certainly knowing a con job when she heard one, snorted.

"The lad prefers other boys, Albus. Severus came to my bed only because I willingly offered him affection with no strings attached. Our Severus was quite concerned regarding the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor position and I didn't mind his need for reassurance. He wanted to do right by the students, to give them a proper background combined with suitable training in DADA, as we both can admit that our students' lessons have been somewhat erratic and inconsistent in that particular field."

"I find it quite hard to believe that Severus was troubled…" The Head Master protested lightly. "He's been after me for ages to give him that position."

"He knew the position was hexed, and Severus didn't want his failure to reflect poorly on you," Minerva answered. "For Severus, respect from you… from his fellow instructors… from his students… is paramount to him. That's why I thought it best to keep our affair secret. Everyone would have gossiped about him shagging a woman old enough to be his mother. He would have been ridiculed."

"And perhaps, it would not have mattered to him if you had been willing to admit that you were bedding him," Albus stated.

Minerva heard Albus' censure in his tone regarding what he believed her overwhelming desire for confidentiality, and her cheeks flushed, but only slightly. They were old friends after all, and they were brutally frank with one another.

"And if for some reason you had come to your senses, and decided to explore a relationship with Severus, be it a mindless tumble or something more serious, you would never have made a move if you believed that he and I were involved," Minerva retorted.

"As always, you're quite correct," Albus easily confessed. "I would have sent him on to you on Christmas night if I had known."

"Severus would have been shattered if you had sent him away. No doubt it took all of his considerable courage to ask you to bed him."

"No, Minerva, that's where you are quite mistaken." Albus pointed his finger at her, and then sadly nodded his head. "It took all of Severus' bravery for him not to flee when I actually agreed."

* * *

The Dark Lord summoned him, and for once, Albus was not his guard. 

No, it was a gleeful Bellatrix LeStrange and assorted other Death Eaters who decided among themselves that it was quite necessary to Scourgify him repeatedly before he was admitted into the Dark Lord's presence. Must not offend the Dark Lord with dirty, tattered rags that smelled too strongly of puke and dirt.

"Severus," the Dark Lord's reedy voice hissed. "I'm so sorry to hear that you have not been feeling well."

"Master," Severus whispered. He placed his face on the floor, attempted not to show his fear. "I have not betrayed you."

"I know that, Severus. You are the _**most**_ loyal of my Death Eaters," the Dark Lord softly admitted. "That's why you have been Chosen for a most important assignment."

"I obey," Severus quickly announced. He also noticed with dry amusement that Bellatrix and the rest of the Death Eaters seemed surprised and yes… _**unhappy**_… with the Dark Lord's tone with him.

"We will talk in private," the Dark Lord hissed. He then waved his hands at his other followers. "Leave us. This matter is completely between Severus and me."

The Death Eaters were confused and uncertain and obvious in their desire not to leave Severus alone with the Dark Lord. No doubt they were now worried on how the Dark Lord would react to Severus' less than flattering comments about his guards.

"LEAVE!" The Dark Lord raised his voice. "I will not ask again!"

Severus kept his face to the floor, trying to understand exactly the hell was happening.

"Severus, my most favorite follower. You have pleased me, Severus, and I have decided to reward you. You will be instrumental in the downfall of Albus Dumbledore."

"I am not worthy of your regard, Master," Severus whispered.

"_**Paters Gignere Ingeniter.**_ Are you familiar with that particular hex, Severus?"

_**Fathers beget prodigy, **_his mind instinctively translated. It was Darkest of Dark Magic, as it was a spell for procreation that was most often used on unwillingly wizards. The child conceived thus would live off the wizard's magical energy until the time came for it to be born. That is, if the wizard lived that long, as there was an extremely high rate of mortality.

Severus flinched and made the mistake of looking directly at the Dark Lord. His stomach churned, and he put his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from spewing.

"Well,_Paters Gignere Ingeniter_ certainly explains your ever present nausea, Severus," the Dark Lord crooned. "Congratulations are in order to Albus and you. Albus is _**technically**_ the father as the polyjuiced form takes on all aspects of the original."

"It will kill me," Severus softly protested. The Slytherin was proud that his voice was calm, as inwardly he was screaming.

"Yes, I'm afraid that most likely you will be dead in thirty odd weeks, Severus. _Paters Gignere Ingeniter _is not a very forgiving spell. It takes all of the incubator's magical energy at first, just to keep the child viable. Then, as the child gets closer to term, the second father will be needed to donate his magical essence."

"I don't understand your plan," Severus softly admitted.

"When Albus rescues you…" Voldemort explained in his hissing tones.

"He will _**not**_…" protested Severus.

"Don't _**interrupt**_, Severus. As I was saying, Albus will rescue you, and once he discovers your closely guarded, most shameful secret, I predict that he'll do the decent, moral thing. He'll bond you as his mate so that you have the best probability of carrying the child to term and surviving."

"Albus will never agree to _**that**_!" Severus screamed.

"Yes, he _**will**_. Because when he asks you if you truly desire to carry the child to term, you will convince him that you desperately want the child."

_**But I don't**_, Severus nearly screamed, but he bit his tongue.

"You'll be Imperio'd into wanting the child, I'm afraid, as I believe you reluctant in wishing to nourish the child you've help create. Severus, you will persuade him that you always had a bit of a school boy crush on him, but were far too shy, too inhibited to even dream of pursuing the issue. Considering how the child was created, and how traumatized you will be from this entire experience, Albus will be determined to do the Right Thing."

The Dark Lord dryly laughed.  
_  
"_As_ Paters Gignere Ingeniter_ weakens you more and more, Albus will bestow ever increasing amounts of his magical essence unto you. When Albus is weakened sufficiently, we will move against him."

Severus put his hands against his mouth, determined not to spew his guts in front of the Dark Lord. He had some pride left, but most importantly, he needed to keep his wits about him.

"You don't look well, Severus. Was it something that you ate?" Voldemort asked in a voice full of faux concern. "Don't worry, Severus, Albus is here to take care of you and the newest Dumbledore."

Albus softly laughed, and then patted a shaking Severus on his shoulder.

"I told you that I was giving you a very special present," Albus reminded him. "You thought _socks_, but this is something far, far better."

The imposter leaned over to Severus and loudly whispered into his ear, "Every time I look at you, I'll know that I'm the one that did it."

"I'm rather disappointed," the Dark Lord, who had eagerly watched the reunion, admitted with a disappointed sigh. "He didn't scream when he saw you. I want Severus to scream whenever he sees Albus' face."

"By the time I'm done with him, he'll scream alright," Albus quickly, and with much enthusiasm, promised.

"Perhaps, shrieking and bawling might be too much. Albus might quickly grow tired of Severus' hysterics, and not wish to be saddled with a screaming Nancy. That would be just my luck…"

"I could teach him to weep," Albus offered with a delighted, nasty grin. "A storm of silent weeping while big, fat tears run down his ugly, pale face. He'll make an effort to conceal his tears by letting his greasy, filthy hair fall into his eyes."

"Yes and he should be cowering in fear, with one hand cradled protectively over the little horror he's carrying," the Dark Lord spoke slowly, pondering the idea. "Albus is quite the sentimental fool, and the unmistakable fact that Severus is utterly terrified of him will profoundly disturb him."

"Perhaps Severus could be trained to plead for the brat's life whenever he sees Albus." The imposter that wore Albus' kindly face offered that twisted idea without a qualm.

"Albus, I like that idea. Very well, you're to break Severus as quickly as possible, but carefully, as our dear Severus is, after all, in a very delicate condition. He must not lose the baby; else we'll have to delay our plans until he's fertile again. How long do you believe that breaking Severus will take?"

Albus pondered the question for a moment, and laughed.

"A couple weeks at the most," Albus easily admitted. "I'm quite good at breaking people."

"Excellent. When he's adequately trained, we'll see about arranging for his rescue."

The Dark Lord laughed once more, and then placed both hands on Severus' face.

"I'm so proud of you. Albus will be so horrified over what has happened to you that he'll be agitated and unfocused, and you, my dear boy, will be responsible for fatally weakening him before he notices!"

And the Dark Lord continued to laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer # 1 - These characters aren't mine.

Disclaimer # 2 - Squick fest. non con. mpreg.

* * *

It had been some time since he was graced with a visit by his own personal apparition. Least, Severus believed that his last visit by the Glowering Ghoul of the Disapproving Dumbledore had been several days ago…. 

Or perhaps it had been perhaps… a week or so ago?

Touching the stubble on his chin, Severus pondered if his last haunting had been actually more than… two weeks ago…? It had been before he was shaved by Bellatrix for his command performance in front of the Dark Lord… wasn't it?

Quickly, he crawled away from the phantasm, accepting that there was no escape; nevertheless, Severus did feel more secure in the situation when he was in the corner of his cell. With two walls firmly against his back, Severus didn't have to worry about anyone attacking him from behind.

Though, his mind thoughtfully pointed out that since this Albus was an apparition, would mere stone walls be able to stop him?

"Severus?" Albus the Apparition softly questioned.

Severus knew his part in this charade, and how to appropriately respond. The Physical Albus had been brutally efficient in training him in what was acceptable responses. Quickly, Severus had come to terms with the simple fact that the only way to ensure that the excruciating pain did not start anew was to play his part with all the grace he possessed.

Survival was paramount; keeping his pride intact was not.

No doubt this visit was another of Albus' assessments, and Severus feared failing it.

Once, he thought himself strong enough to easily laugh off torture, but that was before Severus had been broken so easily, and so efficiently. They hadn't even wasted the energy to Imperio him after the first few sessions, because the unholy need to protect the child had become so engrained into his soul after they had bespelled him that it overrode every other instinct. Even his own physical safety was no longer his main concern, except for the simple fact that he was the incubator; it was necessary for him to stay alive.

He cradled his belly protectively, because that's exactly how Albus had trained him.

Failure to do so quickly and properly would only lead to Albus kicking him. Physical punishment was favored by Albus, as his nemesis could quickly focus the delivery of retribution to only Severus' less vital areas, his face, arms and legs, while Magical punishment could affect Severus' _**entire**_ body.

Albus knelt next to him, and Severus softly groaned.

Moaning was_** good**_.

It pleased the Physical Albus to hear him whimper. The Glowering Ghost on the other hand, appeared ghostly aghast by his sniveling and the fact that Severus shied away from him.

"Severus… what have they done to you?" Albus gently questioned.

His voice was husky, as though Albus was upset with Severus.

Yes, Albus would be upset with Severus, because Severus Snape was an ungrateful git.

"Thank you for my present, Albus," Severus quickly whispered. In the hopes of earning much needed bonus points, Severus smiled widely, and attempted to appear enthused. Truthfully, he was as far from ecstatic as he had ever been, and in fact, Severus was so long past terrified that he was working on a state of full hysteria.

Being knocked up by one Powerful Wizard of Good and then being used as a ruse by a Powerful Dark Wizard to destroy the Good Wizard had quite utterly destroyed Severus' mental equilibrium.

Severus knew that he was thisclosetogoing absolutely positively barking mad.

"What present?" Albus softly questioned. His sincere voice sounded concerned.

"My special gift," Severus hesitantly reminded him, wishing he understood why the capricious Albus was being coy. "My very special _**Christmas**_ present."

_**Don't you remember? **_

_You__gave a unique and integral part of yourself to me as my special Christmas present._

Albus hadn't informed him of when exactly the conception had taken place, and so Severus had doggedly obsessed on the simple, indisputable and unquestionable truth that it was, in fact, the result of his Christmas night with the Real Albus. Severus had accepted the brutal truth, which was that the odds of the sprog being conceived on Christmas were so long as to be near impossible, but his refusal to believe otherwise was the only way his shattered soul could handle his escalating emotional and psychological trauma.

It _**had**_ to be that night, because he couldn't bear to consider the possibility that the child he was so determinedly protecting with every fiber in his being had been engendered by the _**Angry Albus**_.

Yes, he was bespelled. He knew it, but that didn't stop his savage need to protect the sprog.

It had to be Albus' child.

After all, hadn't the Christmas Albus been gentle?

Evidently, Albus had planned the conception of their baby to be the perfect culmination of an incredible night for Severus. Dumbledore had been an unusually considerate and caring lover, besides being quite zealous… in fact; almost… relentless… in ensuring that Severus had been completely satisfied.

Only Minerva had ever before treated him with such thoughtfulness.

Severus had naturally, in turn, desired to please his lover, but instead, Albus had insisted on focusing only on him. Their coupling hadn't been a hard, fast and furious fuck, but long moments of tenderness combined with Albus' playful teasing. Then to Severus' bewildered surprise, after they had made love, Albus had adamantly insisted on Severus staying in his bed, where the two of them had snuggled together under the blankets. The two of them had even cuddled, kissed, and softly talked while they had gently explored and touched one another.

Albus hadn't just taken his pleasure and kicked Severus out of his bed.

No, he only had dismissed Severus because Severus had gotten entirely too bold! He should have been happy with what Albus had deigned to give him.

Severus always wanted more than he deserved.

_You knew that I always craved the smallest part of you just for me. All those years, I assumed that you were horrified and disgusted by my dark desires… and instead… you gave this to __**me.**_

_Just for __**me.**_

_You always give everyone socks and scarves for Christmas. Never before have you sired a child on anyone._

_Just__** me.**_

_Me and me alone._

_**MINE**_

_I just wish that you had asked before you cast the Paters Gignere Ingeniter on me, Albus. It will in all probability kill me, Albus, to bring this child of ours to term. If you had only asked… I would have willingly agreed… I could have prepared a strengthening draught…researched some potion… found something that could help this child be born… _

_Maybe… I'm so… confused…what being bespelled, hexed and cursed...maybe you wanted to surprise me with this?_

_Yes, you wanted to watch me… until I comprehended what we had created together._

_I'd be so afraid to confess, to fearfully admit to what had occurred, terrified that you'd blame and curse me for this blessed mistake. Then to my overjoyed surprise, you'd laughingly reveal your duplicity, your blue eyes merrily twinkling with amusement over my apprehension, and then you'd tenderly explain how this was your gift to me. You'd reassure me that you'd carefully watch over me while I brought this to fruition._

_Yes, that has to be the explanation. The other explanation… is… unacceptable and intolerable. You __**have**__ to be the father. I could not handle the shame otherwise. _

_You are always such a trickster, Albus, and I constantly fail to understand your wit. … This would be a merry trick that you would gleefully perform on your grim and humorless Slytherin… you would clandestinely wait in the shadows in order to merrily observe my shocked and bewildered reaction…_

_That's why I know you're responsible… and not… __**him.**_

_Because this is something that you would do to me. Then while I was sputtering in my confusion, you'd offer me a sweet.  
_  
"Sherbet lemon, Severus?"

_They'd be so resentful and covetous because you had deemed that a Slytherin, and most horrifically to that Blasted Gryffindor Honor, that This Slytherin in Particular, was worthy to be part of this experience, and not one of your Golden Gryffindors. As always, Potter, Black and Lupin would be malicious, but you'd punish them because at long last… you cared for me and clearly saw their cruelty. _

_You'd keep me safe, unlike when I was younger. _

_You'd ask for my forgiveness for what happened in my formative years, and I'd assure you that it was nothing…for nothing matters between us but the now. _

_But… then why am I here? Why are you letting the Dark Lord's followers hurt me?_

"The_** socks**_?" Albus questioned, his voice confused. "The _**scarf**_? Why do you burn with this completely unexpected enthusiasm for socks and scarves, Severus?"

_This isn't a __**punishment**__, is it? _

_To give me this gift? Then to deny all knowledge of it? Leaving me alone to bear the guilt that I'm causing it to suffer?_

"_**No**_," Severus desperately whispered. "My special Christmas gift? You said you had planned it, that you'd be so proud to look upon me and know that _**you**_ gave it to _**me**_… Please, Albus, I'm so sorry."

He put his one hand on his face to shields his tears from the maddening, capricious Albus. Why was Albus so cruelly mocking him like this? Albus knew that Severus didn't posses his finely developed sense of whimsy. Severus was pragmatic and strict, he had never learned to be otherwise. His life had offered him no other alternatives, no other way to survive Tobias and Eileen.

"Why did you put me here?" Severus softly questioned. He strove to keep his voice calm and composed, but he sounded plaintive to his own ears.

"You believe that _**I**_ did this to you?" Albus asked.

"You were angry about what I said Christmas night. I'm so sorry, Albus. I should never have said what I did. I was too presumptuous, I know… too familiar… but I was just… overwhelmed… by your kindness and compassion…I spoke before I thought…. Please… please... _**forgive**_ me. I did not mean to offend you with my impudence."

"Severus, you weren't impertinent, lad. I was absolutely astounded by how strongly you felt. I reacted badly, and I wasn't as sympathetic to your feelings as I should have been. When you're rescued, we'll have a long talk, and everything will once again be just fine between us."

Albus' voice was so soothing and comforting, so much like a soothing salve on a painful wound that Severus had to ask The Question.

"Then why are you punishing… _**us**_?" Severus fearfully asked.

"_**Us**_?" An obviously thrown Albus questioned.

"Albus? The _Paters Gignere Ingeniter?" _Severus prompted, his voice sounding strained. "I'll be dead before the child… _**our**_ child… is ready to be born. Don't let it die because you're furious with me… Please? Albus... _**please**_…Why are you pretending that you know nothing about your precious gift to me? Why are you being so cruel? Is not my sincerity in apologizing enough to assuage your anger?"

"_Paters Gignere Ingeniter?" _The phantom's voice sounded strange, but then his tone turned harsh and demanding. "Severus! What have they _**done**_ to you?"

"Albus? You did this to me…?" The Slytherin softly questioned. "I'm protecting our child from Albus as well as I am able. I swear to you that I am. He hurts me, but I permit the abuse."

"Why do you let him hurt you, Severus?"

"To protect the baby you gave me," Severus stated in confusion, disbelieving that Albus thought there was another alternative that he hadn't considered. "I do anything they want me to do…If I am not lively and quick, they have threatened to Crucio me. That wouldn't be good for our baby, it could permanently harm it. I do many horrible things in order to protect it, I fear that one day, you will both know the magnitude of my disgrace."

Albus said not a word, and Severus began to panic.

"Know this. I do it _**gladly**_, for you _**both**_. But please, you need to explain to me… why did you let them take me?"

Severus' eyes were full of madness, and his voice was cracking.

"Christmas night, Albus? Clearly, you had meticulously planned everything…_**didn't**_ you?"

"First thing I need to do, is get you out of here, Severus," Albus insisted, refusing to answer the question, but knowing that Severus would hear an answer anyway. "I'll find you, and then we will put this to rights."

The prisoner stared at Albus, and his eyes that had once blazed with such an obscene, exultant joy were now cold and dead. The Slytherin was curled up into the fetal position, but his hands were protectively resting over his belly.

"Don't you be afraid, I'll take care of you, I swear. I'll keep you safe, I will, I will," Severus whispered. "Doesn't matter to me who your father is. You're mine. All_** mine**_. Ignore him, he's not really here. And if he was actually here, he wouldn't care. But I care… I care for you."

And then he refused to speak to Albus.

* * *

Albus woke then, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he thought he was still in the dirt cell with a shell-shocked, extremely traumatized, and yes, apparently pregnant Severus who had confidently pinned his expectant condition as being completely due to Albus' tender mercies. There was a droning noise, and Albus prayed that he wasn't to be haunted by the sound of Severus softly crooning to his unborn child for all of eternity. 

He would be haunted enough by the knowledge of what he had witnessed; Albus would prefer to do so without the additional bonus of sound effects.

Fawkes then gently chirruped his concern about Albus' emotional state, and Albus gratefully realized that he was in his bedroom.

_Severus?__Paters Gignere Ingeniter? _

"Bloody hell, I need to wake Filius," Dumbledore growled.

He requested a house elf bring hot chocolate and other delicacies to his quarters, suitable for calming and bribing an unhappy to be woken staff, and then he Floo Called Filius, and yes, Minerva also.

The witch gave him a jaundiced eye of stern disapproval when she exited his Floo. Her long hair wasn't completely restrained, as she apparently had put it into a bun with a lick and a promise. Her tartan dress was neat and presentable, so she must have used magic to ensure she looked presentable.

"You're too easily making a habit of these late night chinwags, Albus," she snapped. For good measure, she gave him a mighty glare, that might have frightened him, if he wasn't Albus Dumbledore.

"I'll explain the tawdry details when Filius gets here, Minerva. I don't want to repeat myself," Albus stated.

"You don't look well." Her voice was questioning. Then she sighed, and softly added, "Was it?"

"Our little boy lost? Yes," Albus slowly admitted.

Filius tumbled out of the Floo, his dark hair askew, and looking rather rumpled. Unlike Minerva, Filius had thrown on his academic robes. Being a small man in a large world, Filius used everything thing that he could to work to his advantage. Respect could be earned by intellectual intimidation, after all.

"This better be _**GOOD**_, Albus," the diminutive Charms Instructor darkly growled in a tone that would deeply surprise the denizens of Hogwarts, all of them possessing the same mistaken impression that Filius Flitwick was the closest to Sainthood among all those currently in residence at Hogwarts. "Pour me a cup of Hot Chocolate before I accidentally murder you with a muffled, misfired hex."

"First, I must ask you, Filius, what do you know of _Paters Gignere Ingeniter?" _Albus questioned. "Understand that what I am about to reveal to you can not leave this room."

Filius ceased his grumbling and shook his head.

"Very well, I will swear a Wizard's Oath, if that makes you happy. _Paters Gignere Ingeniter_ ? That's Dark Magic, Albus. If you truly want to chat about that particular spell in the wee hours of the morning, in my completely professional opinion, you should really bring our DADA instructor Remus Lupin into the conversation," Filius calmly stated. "He's your Dark Arts specialist. Severus would probably be the better option, but he's not available."

"Let us say that I can not bring Remus into this conversation," Albus carefully phrased that. "Due to his past history with the possible victim, I believe that it would be counterproductive to have his input."

"Severus?" Minerva's voice was rather shocked. "Are you saying Severus has been hexed with _Paters Gignere Ingeniter?"_

Filius sat down, and his somewhat grouchy demeanor disappeared to parts unknown. Instead, he was completely the sharp minded academic.

"Merlin's knickers, Albus, you should have just said it." Flitwick hissed. "Very well, _Paters Gignere Ingeniter _is Dark Magic. It is not as commonly used today as it was back in the Middle Ages. It's primarily a method of prolong torture, though I'm sure some fools have thought it the height of romantic love to have their lover's child. Two male wizards have sex, willingly or not, and the child is conceived. The wizard that is carrying the child becomes almost a squib, for the lack of a better term, during the pregnancy. All of his magical essence is used to carry the child. His magic nourishes it and allows it grow inside of him. It's very draining, and it takes an extremely powerful wizard to carry the child to term."

"That's what I know, but I need more information, Filius," Albus explained. "Go beyond what's written in the text books, Filius. I need to know everything I can about that curse, even if it's merely hearsay, as it might prove invaluable."

"It's a risky spell at the best of times, Albus. I'm assuming that one of the Death Eaters fathered the child?" Filius questioned. "_Paters Gignere Ingeniter_ usually requires a latency period after the spell is cast. The wizard's body needs time to adjust. While it's technically possible to cast the spell and then immediately impregnate the wizard, the odds are quite low that you'll actually be successful. What else do I need to know?"

"To add further insult to Severus' injury, there is a possibility that Polyjuice Potion might have been used so the Death Eaters took on… my physical form." Albus was proud that his voice remained steady when he admitted that.

Filius hissed, and made a warding gesture.

"Under the letter of the law then, the child is biologically yours, though you will not be legally responsible for it," Filius reminded him.

"I will be responsible for the child, irregardless of what the law currently says. I owe Severus that much," insisted Albus. His voice was stern, and it brooked no disagreement or opposition to his statement. "He will not have to deal with this situation alone."

"Severus may not want anything to do with you after what he's experienced. More importantly, he may not want the child after he is rescued. There are options available to him that he may decide of which to make use. Poppy must be involved, naturally. She's discreet, plus she's… compassionate. Some mediwitches are far too forceful in inserting their personal beliefs into this particular situation. Poppy will do what must be done. But Albus, how do you know all this?"

"I've been having dreams…" Albus admitted slowly.

"Turning into Sybill, are you? Very well, it's quite possible that you're catching psychic vibrations from this event, especially since you're so intimately involved with Severus' current trauma. I warn you though that if I catch the slightest whiff of cooking sherry from your direction, I will be most _**vexed**_ with you." Filius growled the word vexed.

Filius' bright eyes stared at Albus, and then the Ravenclaw Head shook his head.

"That's very bad, Albus. Both you and Severus are powerful wizards, and the child most likely will be also. That means Severus' magical reserves will be quickly depleted. But on the positive side, they might have made a major mistake then. Be back in a minute," Filius snapped, before he got off the couch and ran toward the Floo, his small academic robes billowing behind him in a fair impersonation of Severus Snape.

With a puff of green smoke, Filius disappeared.

"How was he?" Minerva questioned.

"He seemed to be coping with the situation as best as he was able. Severus had decided that the child had been conceived on Christmas night, and was fiercely protective of it because it was… _**mine**_. He called it his Christmas present from me, and when I, naturally, being confused about the situation, Severus became quite agitated."

"Oh," was all Minerva said.

"I fear that I might have shattered his illusions in my confusion," Albus softly confessed. "I should not have done that."

Filius then exited the floo, carrying a rag and a small package. Behind him, a bespelled small cart was following him. It was filled with assorted books, and various scrolls.

"Clean a table off, Albus. I'll need room," Filius ordered. "I might be able to locate the baby. I'm sure Severus' location is Veiled, as you have been unable to locate him. But the baby? I doubted that they have even thought of the possibility of it being used to Locate Severus. When I boxed Severus' belongings after his disappearance, I found a cloth with his blood on it. It appears that he was injured at the Christmas massacre and used it to clean his wounds. Also, I managed to find some of his hair on a brush."

Albus nodded his head once, and then he rolled up the sleeve of his robe.

"My blood is willingly offered. You do not have to fear that the onus of performing the Dark Magic will fall on your soul, Filius. It will be my obligation to carry. I do so willingly." Albus quietly stated. "As for my hair, due to the Army of Polyjuiced Albuses running amuck and creating chaos, I can easily assure you that it's quite potent for spell use."

"All you need is one piece, Albus. You can then Replicate it until you have enough to weave blankets upon blankets for your Army of Albuses," Filius reminded him. "You have no fault in this."

"I do," retorted Albus. "I hold the final responsibility for what has occurred."

Filius hemmed and hawed, placing the dirty cloth with Severus' dried blood and a few pieces of Severus' hair on a piece of white silk. Albus tugged at a healthy clump of his hair from his head, and without a wince, he added it to the pile.

"I didn't need quite that much, Albus," Filius softly reminded him.

"Severus' hair is desiccated, and so is his blood. You will need more of my magic essence in order to balance and bind the charm," Albus stated.

"Actually, I was wondering. Min?" Filius shyly questioned. He didn't quite meet her eyes when he asked, "You _**did**_ take the boy to your bed?"

Minerva slightly blushed, but proudly nodded her head.

"You can use my blood as the binding," she offered. If it helped locate Severus, the slight taint of being involved in a Blood ritual mattered not at all to her. "Plus my hair."

"Thank you," was all Filius said, but she heard his gratitude in his tone. Plus, the timbre of his voice seemed more optimistic.

"I don't understand why you're using Minerva's blood. If they should detect what you're doing, they may use a Backfire Spell to harm her," Albus protested.

"I'm willing to take the risk," Minerva insisted.

"Easy, Minerva. I can shield you as much as possible from the possibility of Backfire. Albus, the boy's been wounded by you. Not you, I know, but the physical essence of you. His blood may not agree to be bound with yours for the Location spell. Minerva has been lovers to you both," Filius explained.

"I didn't realize _**everyone**_ knew," snippily inserted Minerva. She had always prided herself on her discretion.

"She has cared for you both and has willing received from both of you, your physical essence…" Filius blushed and then slowly whispered. "_**Sperm**_, Minerva."

"I_** paid**_ attention in class," Minerva snapped, though her face was fiery.

"In turn, you have both fulfilled her as the Goddess," Filius explained to Albus.

"You both gave me an orgasm," Minerva inserted, knowing and accepting that this was a very serious matter, but she did intend on making Filius pay through the nose for revealing her carnal secrets. "Usually the two of you did so repeatedly, I'm quite delighted to announce."

"This is beginning to sound somewhat… pagan, Filius," said a blushing Albus.

Filius, realizing that his lecture on the spell had moved in areas that he wasn't comfortable discussing, then offered a small silver blade to Minerva.

"Cut Albus, and then he'll have to transfer his blood to the cloth. You then cut your own wrist, and you then will have to mix your blood between both of them. Severus' blood may react favorably to yours. It may cling to yours, and Albus to yours. That way their blood will be mixed and I can locate the child."

She cut Albus' wrist, and she hissed at the amount of blood that welled from the wound. So much blood, so much more than she had planned on spilling. Blithely, Albus let his blood pour onto the silk cloth, uncaring of the flow. Minerva then cut her own wrist and then her own blood was soon mingling with the blood of both Albus and Severus.

"I'm sorry, Albus. I didn't mean to cut you so badly," she admitted.

Albus gave her a gentle smile. His blue eyes were somber, and she realized with a frightening thought that Albus Dumbledore was old. Not just old, but also weary and terribly exhausted from the battle he fought. Intellectually, she had always known that Albus was her elder, but he had always seemed... energetic.

"I'm sorry, also," he whispered.

Not for the cut, but for the emotional wounds he had unintentionally inflected on her so many years ago when they had been lovers.  
_**  
I should have treated you better, as I should have treated Severus kinder. But I had wanted to protect you, to protect him, from the pain of loving someone so undeserving as myself.  
**_  
"I know you are sorry, dear heart. I know you are." Minerva whispered. "I've long since forgiven you."

"But will he?" Albus questioned.

His soft voice only reached her ears, as Filius was busy flicking and swishing his wand. With a final snap of his wand, Filius had completed the spell.

"And now? Minerva questioned.

"And now we wait to see if we can Locate, Severus. We may not have enough of his blood for this to work," Filius tersely answered.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer # 1 - These characters aren't mine.

Disclaimer # 2 - Squick fest. non con. mpreg.

A/N - bairn is Scottish for child/baby. Sprog is slang for baby/child. Sprogling is Severus' twisted take on the term sprog. Up the duff means pregnant.

* * *

Walden McNair was an Executioner. 

Oh, sorry, the magically correct term was _**Disposer**_.

Walden McNair, Jr., was the official Disposer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures and unofficial Executioner for the Dark Lord, and he was quite talented at both his jobs. For his hallowed role as Defender of Innocence against Dangerous Creatures, he wore a silk, black mask, and he had a very keen blade. Walden was quite found of his axe as he had gotten from his father, and Walden was a bit of a sentimentalist at heart. He kept the blade razor sharp, keeping it free from nicks and notches that were the hazards of its particular trade. Yes, it was a bespelled blade, but sometimes a particularly tough bone would put a chip in it, and he'd have to compulsively, lovingly remove the notch.

He liked to swing his axe.

No, he loved swinging it, feeling his muscles tense as he raised the blade high above his head, enjoyed the SWOOSH as it came down on its victim like a hawk on its prey. McNair was enraptured by the sweet sound of the impact of steel against flesh and fascinated by the bright, happy way in which bright red blood, still being bumped by a beating heart too stunned to realize that it was dead, squirted and sprayed in a pretty pattern.

He didn't like the dark, maroon, clotting blood of a dying heart quite so much, as it was rather… gauche.

Walden McNair had his standards, you see.

He preferred to Execute using steel rather than magic. It was far more personal that way. The first time he had been baptized in a spray of blood was when he was… six? Yes, _**six**_, as it had been Take Your Son to Work Day, and so McNair, Senior had shown his son for the first time what he did for a living.

"This is a traditional job, handed down from father to son, so it will be yours," McNair, Senior had insisted, as he had lovingly wiped his axe blade clean.

Walden had licked the blood off his lips, savoring the salty, sweet taste and the younger McNair had smiled a ghastly smile when he admiringly looked up at his father.

He was licking his lips now, and was wearing the same appalling smirk.

"It's Polyjuice time," he whispered before he drank what he called the Essence of Albus. No matter how often he drank it, he couldn't help but gag on how sugary sweet this particular potion was.

Walden stared at his naked Albus form in the mirror, obsessively checking to make sure all the various, saggy, soft bits were correct. Antonin Dolohov had expressed his concern about the effectiveness of the current batch of Polyjuice Potion as he swore that the last time he was pumping Severus Snape that his hands were _**his**_… not the hands of Albus Dumbledore.

Yes, he had the soft belly, the white chest hairs, that strange, fascinating scar on his knee… It was a decent body, and some bits worked amazingly well, considering that the old boy was closing on one hundred and twenty and had managed to get Severus Snape up the duff.

He shrugged into a purple, spangled robe, and McNair smiled. It was time to visit Severus.

* * *

Part of Walden McNair's responsibilities in the matter of Severus Tobias Snape was to determine when the boy was well and truly broken. It amused him to no end that Antonin and Rabastan would calmly assure the Dark Lord that Severus was a broken husk of the man he once was, but NcNair would shake his head and disagree when asked. 

"He's playing us, M'lord," He answered. "He's play acting at being broken. If you have complete faith in Severus' loyalty, by all means, wrap him up in a purple bow and give him to Albus as he is now. But I wouldn't do it. The boy doesn't yet weep when he sees Albus enter his cell, though he knows damn well that before long he'll be playing ewe to Albus' ram. Snape parrots what we want him to say, but I don't believe that he truly means what he is saying. When I'm done with him, sometimes, I think the boy' eyes are hiding something."

The others had mocked and protested his comments, belittling his ability to intimidate and terrorize, but the Dark Lord had been intrigued. The Dark Lord knew that Walden McNair, Jr. took a professional pride in his ready ability to crush a soul and that he hated to admit a possible failure.

"Continue," the Dark Lord hissed.

"Severus is not crushed yet. You don't want him repairable, so Albus can simply gain his loyalty by treating him kindly and reminding him of the abuse he suffered at the hands and under the dicks of his fellow Death Eaters. He might manage to break the Imperio and reveal your plan to Albus. You want his soul shattered beyond mending."

The Dark Lord never truly trusted anyone with all of his plans, including the various assorted souls that were impersonating Albus for the benefit of Severus Snape, and so as Walden expected, the decision had come forth. The boy would be truly broken and shattered before being presented to Albus Dumbledore.

The abuse had escalated, and still the boy _**played**_ at being broken. He was hiding something, a belief that gave him an almost inhuman strength to endure the countless cruelties that the others were inflicting on him. Some of the brutalities were unrivaled in their particular Albus inspired depravities, and occasionally, they even made the cold blooded McNair's blood freeze in his veins.

In fact, McNair refused to look too closely into what twisted game Antonin had concocted that required a four kilo bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, a bag of sherbet lemons, a handful of lemon drops, three chocolate frogs, two peppermint toad creams, a small container of honey and a funnel. Antonin as Albus had merrily whistled as he left Severus' cell, cheerfully chomping away at what remained of the Every Flavoured Beans, his purple spangled robe splattered with various liquids that McNair hadn't felt the urge to investigate too closely.

McNair could almost admire Severus, as it had been some time since McNair could admit that he had a challenge in his job. If the lad didn't break after Antonin's torture by sweets, perhaps it was time to rethink how exactly to break the boy.

And Walden did enjoy the chance to research on his favorite topic.

He knocked on Severus' cell door and cheerily called out, "Morning, Severus! It's time for your morning mounting!"

McNair then barged into Severus' cell and he was greeted by a sweet sight that he had almost feared that would never be forthcoming.

Severus Snape had been weeping, which was nothing new. Both of his hands were over his belly, which once again, was nothing new. But his obsidian eyes were _**dead**_.

The boy wasn't shaking in fear; instead, he was utterly still. Severus comprehended what was about to happen and he had accepted that the assault would happen again and again, world without end. Sometime during the night, Severus had reached his personal Rubicon and whatever tightly held belief that had gotten him this far had shattered.

The boy was _**broken**_.

"Oh my dear, dear boy," McNair whispered. Unlike the other Albuses, he worked damn hard on his impersonation of Albus. The softness of Albus' compassion made McNair's brutality that much more unexpected and crueler. "Let me comfort you. Everything will be alright, Severus. Remember Severus, how many times have I assured you that I love you and our baby? How could I not care for a child that we created in our love?"

Without so much as a sound, the boy rolled on his belly, and in that same gesture, he pulled up his robes, exposing his smooth, shapely buttocks. He had never done this before; instead, an insolent, unbroken Severus had to be instructed to do so.

The boy even positioned himself so that it would be easier for Albus to mount him. Albus was a bit arthritic in his hips, and not as limber as a younger man.

_**We have crushed him. The most high and mighty Severus Snape has been shattered.**_

McNair would wait to tell the Dark Lord. First, he wanted to truly ensure that Severus was well and truly broken. Severus was a con artist, after all, a viper that had nestled close to Albus Dumbledore's breast for many years.

"No, no, Severus. Never like that. Never," McNair softly crooned. "Especially not now while you're carrying."

Carefully, he covered the boy with his robe, allowing himself the chance to slowly caress the boy's lovely buttocks, then rolled him over before he assisted him in sitting next to him. He pushed Severus' long, dirty hair out of his face, and McNair began to cover his faces with soft kisses. Instead of murmuring a protest, or shying away from Albus' kisses, a defeated Severus accepted Albus' touch without a qualm. No, instead the boy was leaning into the kisses, as though he was in need of solace.

"I love you, Severus." McNair assured him. "I'd do anything for you, you know that."

"Will you… protect… us?" Severus whispered. "I promise that I'll be good. Just please…protect us from Albus..."

Severus had learned his most important lesson, though it was by far the hardest. Bad behavior caused painful punishment, but good behavior… might earn Severus a reprieve.

"Now, Severus, I will, but I first want you to tell me how much you love our baby. I have my doubts that you are truly happy. I worry, because there's nothing worse that a child not being wanted by its father. Don't you want my wonderful present?"

As Severus haltingly reassured Albus of his sincere feelings for their child, Walden McNair smiled.

It was time for the second part of the plan, and he needed to sharpen his axe. Plus Bellatrix would have to donate a hair ribbon.

* * *

"There simply wasn't enough of Severus' blood and hair to succeed in Locating," Filius softly explained after their sixth attempt at Locating Severus had failed just as the previous attempts had. The diminutive Charms Instructor sighed, and rubbed his aching temples. "Don't you think for one moment that I'm giving up, as I'll continue to research further, Albus. Are you still bleeding, Albus? Should I get Poppy?" 

"No," Albus assured him. He pointed out his neatly bandaged wrist that was stained with dry blood. "It stopped some time ago."

"It wasn't truly necessary for you and Minerva to donate more of your blood." Filius tiredly protested, knowing that it was futile to protest, but his personal integrity demanded that he do so. "It's not your quantity or quality of your blood and hair that's the issue, it's _**his**_. If it was fresh, maybe I could have Replicated it."

"I should have insisted that this be attempted the minute I realized he was gone," Albus whispered.

"Unless you knew the boy had been hexed with _Paters Gignere Ingeniter_ and that he was… pregnant…I would not have known to combine your blood." Filius paused and shook his head. "I still can't believe that the boy has been _Paters Gignere Ingeniter_. It's almost five in the morning, Albus. I truly need to rest before class starts as I'm not as young as you two are."

The Ravenclaw Head packed up his assorted books and scrolls as he prepared to leave. He was about to clean the remains of the blood ritual off Albus' table when he was requested by a terse Albus to leave it as is. Flitwick glanced at Albus who was staring at the pentagon, obviously wishing to disagree with Albus' command, and then the worried Charms Master looked upon Minerva.

_"Is this wise?" _Filius silently questioned.

Minerva nodded her head once. "_Leave it for now."  
_  
Filius hesitantly agreed and then he left the room, leaving Albus and Minerva alone. The witch watched in alarm when Albus calmly reopened his wound and drained more of his blood onto the pentagram. He closed the oozing wound with a softly spoken command. Then Dumbledore stared at intently at the commingled blood for some time, intently whispering and gesturing with his wand. After a few minutes, Albus grimaced in disgust and sat down.

"Nothing," he announced. "Not a single spark that might show that he's still alive."

"Albus," Minerva's tone was uncertain. "May I say something?"

"Speak freely, Minerva. You know that you don't need to ask permission from me," Albus protested. "Though I believe that this is the first time you've ever asked my permission before you harangue and berate me."

Minerva gave Albus a wintry smile, to let him know that for now, she'd let his comment slip by, and uncommented upon, but that there would be retribution later.

"You're quite concerned regarding Severus…"

"How could I _**not**_ be?" Albus questioned in a stricken tone. "Do you dare to once again accuse me of being uncaring of Severus' plight?"

"No, no, not at all," Minerva quickly answered. She gestured with her hands, attempting to soothe Albus. "I know you are quite concerned about him."

"He never believed that I cared," Albus softly admitted. "I fear he may die with that mistaken belief."

"But your concern is distracting you from the school and from the war," Minerva quietly stated. "I fear that Severus' kidnapping is a way of drawing your attention away from whatever He Who Must Not Be Named is truly planning. You are expending a great deal of energy for one man."

There was a long moment of silence while Minerva wondered if she had gone too far and had been too blunt with Albus. While she almost wholeheartedly agreed with Albus' decision to use whatever means necessary to locate Severus, a small, sane part of her soul was rationally wondering about the potential ramifications of Albus' all out Crusade.

"Minerva, you truly believe that I have not realized that?" Albus softly questioned. "And now for more bitter truths, Filius is not happy with me. He was not chuffed when I requested that he leave the casting untouched."

"Filius is not fond of Blood Magic," Minerva offered that tidbit cautiously. "It can prove... difficult to control... and it may rebound in such a way that the caster wasn't prepared to handle."

"Yes, I am quite aware of that quirk," the Head Master easily admitted. "If any student attempted this folly, I'd have them expelled."

He leaned forward, and he intently stared at the pentagram. "We'll try one more time, if you're willing. Return here around eleven. If anyone asks, you can assure them that we're having elvenses."

Minerva knowing a dismissal when she heard it and she nodded her head in agreement.

* * *

Severus failed to notice when the three people entered his cell. He was too busy focusing inward, trying to remember a moment when he had been happy. Had he ever been happy? He couldn't remember if he had ever experienced that fickle, fleeting emotion, but maybe there had been a moment when he hadn't been in pain. Or perhaps there had been a moment when he had been warm? There was a bitter chill that had seemed to have sunk into his bones, and he had tormented, fragmented dreams of a soft voice with warm hands. 

"Severus," the voice of his nightmare hissed.

He wouldn't look up and he wouldn't let the Dark Lord's Red Eyes peer into his soul, but still the voice persisted. At last, Severus finally looked up, fearing that continual impudence would require further punishment. His blood ran cold when the Dark Lord smiled in delight.

"Very well, Severus, show me your Dark Mark."

As instructed, he extended his left arm, and the Dark Lord placed his wand against his forearm. The snake tattoo writhed and twisted on his arm, and his blood began to burn. The Dark Lord kept his wand against his Dark Mark for what seemed to be an eternity, and Severus pleaded with the Dark Lord to stop. The Dark Lord watched him snivel and whinge, and then after a sufficiently painful time to prove to Severus that the Dark Lord was stopping it only because he wanted to do so and no other reason, the Dark Lord removed his wand from the Dark Mark.

"He's ready. Take off his arm," the Dark Lord ordered. "Then have Bellatrix put a neat bow on it so we can deliver it to Albus tomorrow in the Owl Post."

And Walden McNair, Jr. raised his axe.

* * *

"Filius," Minerva warned the man who was blocking the entrance to Albus' office. "I'll be late to my meeting with Albus if you insist on standing there." 

She wouldn't physically push the Ravenclaw out of her way, nor would she would she 'shoo' him. He was a highly respected and much esteemed professor, senior to her in experience and his length of service to Hogwarts, so he needed to be treated accordingly. The undeniable fact that Filius Flitwick was a prized member of the Hogwarts staff didn't mean that she wouldn't bequeath him an evil glare as he wasn't moving out of her way!

"Promise me one thing, Min, and I'll let you go on your merry way," Filius requested.

"What do you want?" She questioned.

With a soft mutter of magical worlds, she and Filius were then having a private conversation which no one would be able to overhear.

"Please, clean up the blood after you try again. Albus is... not acting like himself regarding this matter. Never, never, _**never**_ would have I ever thought that Albus Dumbledore would condone the use of Blood Magic, but then again, I never would have believed that he'd claim he was an Oneiromancist. " Filius's compassionate voice was full of real concern. "It's a slippery slope, Minerva. What if we can't Locate him? Do we decide to use the commingled blood to put him out of his misery? Are you willing to do that?"

"Would you prefer to leave him where he is?" Minerva questioned.

"Absolutely_**not**_, Minerva McGonagall, but what are our options?" Filius questioned. "Let me oversee the casting and then let me clean up the ritual. Albus is too emotionally involved in this matter, as he's losing his perspective. Your soul shouldn't be sullied by casting Blood Magic."

"That's two things," she feebly protested, knowing that she had lost the battle and the war.

Filius Flitwick was kind enough not to rub in that he had won their argument.

"Yes, it was. Now shall we go to Albus' office?" Filius questioned.

* * *

A weary Dumbledore tenderly stroked Fawkes, and the Phoenix chirruped softly. 

"I wouldn't ask you this, but it's rather important." Albus patiently explained. "Will you forgive me for asking this of you? You can say no, you understand. I'll understand, and I won't be upset."

The Phoenix chirped again, and rubbed his face against Albus' cheek.

''There was a response, just now. A slight one and I hope that Minerva's input will amplify the response. If we can triangulate his position, I'll need you to pop in where he is, and drop him the port key. It's just keyed to his touch, and will not react for anyone else. It will be quite dangerous for you, most likely he will be heavily guarded, and you might be injured… or even killed."

The Phoenix blinked once, and started crooning a reassuring sound. Albus blinked his eyes to prevent his tears from falling, and then he nodded his head.

"Yes, I know you're quite fast, and that you believe that you can blink in and out before they notice you. Fawkes, you and I have been together for a very long time. Only Aberforth..." Albus stopped and sighed. "It would greatly pain me to lose you."

Fawkes mockingly trilled, and Albus nodded his head.

"Yes, I'm quite annoying when I get maudlin. Whinging like a school boy, am I?" Albus softly questioned.

The Phoenix response was a distinctly undignified squawk of Phoenixy agreement.

"She should be here shortly. When I call your name, grab the port key and go!"

Albus then sat down, and sipped at his tea. It was luke warm, but he needed Minerva to be hoodwinked into believing that he was behaving himself. She knew him far too well, after all, and she would no doubt closely look for any signs that he had a hidden agenda. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't notice the emerald green sock emblazoned with silver snakes playing Quidditch that just happened to be located right next to where Fawkes was drowsing. If they did manage to locate Severus, and Fawkes was able to deliver the port key, he hoped the boy would recognize it for the escape it was and grab the sock.

It would be just like that demanding, impossible… all too damaged boy to decide not to use the port key.

And while he was wishing for the impossible, of rescuing Severus from Tom Riddle, just maybe Aberforth would one day apologize for breaking his nose.

"I should have gotten it straighten," he admitted. "But I figured Aberforth had landed such a well deserved blow that I should take brotherly pride in his accomplishment."

It wasn't a good sign that he was talking to himself. Hopefully, Minerva wouldn't hear that last comment, as she'd know that he had a trick hidden up one brightly colored sleeve.

She was in the staircase, and he growled when he realized that she wasn't alone.

Filius Flitwick!

He'd be harder to fool, as Minerva, for some strange reason, in spite of knowing Albus as well as she did, always thought the best of him. Filius on the other hand, had known him since he was a student, and remembered far too many events Albus would preferred buried.

Bloody hell, Filius even remembered a time when Albus' nose was straight.

* * *

"I twisted Minerva's arm," Filius said by way on explanation on why he had decided to join them for 'elevenses'. "You're too emotionally involved with this to cast clearly. Albus, you are completely blinkered on this subject, Minerva's too innocent to get involved with we might have to do, and that leaves me. I'd prefer that if a soul has to burn for eternity that it's mine, not Min." 

"You're just so chivalrous and gallant, Filius," Minerva cooed in womanly appreciation.

That earned a bemused smirk from Filius who shook his head in disbelief before he quipped, "Taking lessons from Charity?"

Minerva easily laughed, and admitted that she was picking up pointers from the flirtatious Muggle Studies instructor.

"Albus, you've been casting, I can sense it,' Filius stated in a very disapproving tone.

"There seemed to be a response," Albus quickly explained. "Take a look."

Filius pulled a chair over to the table and stood on it. He peered at the pentagram and then glanced at Albus. His mustache was bristling and looking particularly fierce.

"Answer me truthfully, how recently did you Blood it?" Filius questioned.

"Fifteen minutes or so," Albus admitted.

"Then why is it _**wet**_? The pool of amalgamated blood is also _**spreading**_, Albus. Someone's putting more blood into the pentagram, and if it's not you… and Minerva hasn't added any…" Fillius' mien turned serious. "Be prepared to shield me. I need to investigate this, and I'll be wide open to whomever is affecting the ritual."

"Severus?" Minerva questioned.

"So much blood though. It's not an offering, more of a deluge," Filius whispered_**. "**_**_Inquam innotesco indico!"_**

The Charms Instructor intently stared at the pentagram, and then his expressive face blanched.

"Quickly! It's Severus' blood! We can locate him."

* * *

_FAWKES_! 

He heard a familiar voice whisper that name. The name, Fawkes, was known to Severus and it brought faint memories to his mind.

_Warmth. Scarlet. Gold. Gentle hands.  
_

The stump of his left arm was still sluggishly bleeding, as McNair's cauterization of his wound had been less than completely successful. It was almost comical, the fact that he could bemusedly stare at what remained of his left arm and not feel anything.

Severus thought that he should feel pain.

After all, they had hacked off his arm. Not very neatly, he had to critically admit. McNair had a lot of strength, not so much finesse.

_SEVERUS, CAN YOU HEAR US?_

Bellatrix LeStrange had put a nice emerald green bow on his left forearm.

He liked emerald green.

If the little sprog was a girl, maybe he'd give her an emerald green dress for her first Christmas present. It would be cruel to dress the little sprogling in black, though it was a sensible, practical color.

Wait… maybe he'd ask Minerva to give her the dress as he wouldn't be around for the first Christmas.

Yes, maybe Minerva would be willing to keep an eye out on the sprog. No doubt Albus would rescue the baby as it was half Gryffindor, no doubt nobly insisting on raising it as his own, so someone needed to counteract Albus' influence on the poor defenseless sprogling. While Min was Gryffindor down to the colors of her knickers, she was a pragmatist. She wouldn't let Albus clothe the sprogling in spangles, sequins and beads.

Tartans, yes, but no spangles.

Maybe, maybe it would be better if it was a boy. It would be cruel to inflict his nose and Albus' facial hair on a little girl.  
_  
SEVERUS!_

He was so cold, and he was drifting. The voices shouting his name sounded familiar, and he wondered if he had been friendly with them.

What was he thinking? Slytherins had no friends.

A flash of scarlet and gold out of the corner of his eye. It hovered above him, dropped something on him and then it landed next to him.

"Are you… Fawkes?" He hoarsely questioned.

The bird… the Phoenixs… nodded once, splashing what seemed to be a tear on the stump of his arm. The liquid burned like acid, and he uncontrollably writhed from the pain. Instinctively, his right hand clenched onto something… soft.

With a soft pop, Severus Snape disappeared from the cell. Fawkes then grabbed the loops of the emerald green bow as a handle, and popped out.

* * *

"There our boy is!" Filius' voice was cheerful. "We've found him!" 

"Fawkes!" Albus enunciated.

The Phoenix grabbed a green sock and then popped out of sight.

"What are you doing?" Filius questioned.

"It's a portkey keyed to Severus. If he touches it, he'll return here," Albus explained.

"This is too easy," Minerva inserted. "We couldn't sense him this morning, but now we can? Better put up wards, as he might be booby trapped."

Filius and Albus began casting protective spells, and Minerva Floocalled Poppy to warn her that she might be having a patient.

Looking back on what happened, the three mages were able to piece together what happened, but at the time when it was happening, it was nothing more than a blur of mass confusion. When Severus portkeyed into Albus' chamber, he landed directly on top of the blood ritual. The pentagram having been activated and Blooded needed to be carefully neutralized and disabled before it was 'brought down', but instead, it collapsed with a forceful explosion.

The resulting bang shook the castle, and caused the glass panes in the various cabinets in Albus' office to shatter. Filius was flung across the room by the blast, and he barely managed to cast a protective spell before he landed hard on the floor. Minerva, Severus and Albus landed in a pile, and Severus was insanely screaming.

Minerva saw that Severus' left arm ended in a bleeding stump right above where his elbow should have been. Having taken Muggle First Aid as an elective many years ago, she instinctively pressed down on the boy's brachial artery to control the bleeding even while she began casting a healing spell.

"Severus," Albus ordered. "Look at me."

That request caused the boy to shriek even louder, and Albus shook his head.

"He's weak. We'll lose him if I don't do this," Albus whispered.

He took his wand and began casting. Minerva noticed that Albus' wrist was bleeding, and that he had deliberately placed it on Severus' stump. It was odd, what she was noticing. Her self induced incision had broken open again, and her own lifeblood was mixing with Severus' blood.

Poor, poor little Slytherin, she thought. All that Gryffindor blood mixing with yours, how will it affect you? Will your hidden streak of nobility be more apparent to the less observant among us?

"_Statim ut manum tibi dedi, ipsam tibi dedi vitam. Quidquid venturum est, semper tecum ero."_ Albus entoned.

_Just as I have given you my hand to hold, so I give you my life to keep. What may come, I will always be there._

There was an unexpected flare of warmth in her veins, and Severus' screaming increasing as though he had hit a new level of agonizing torment.

"Bloody hell, Albus," Minerva whispered. "You didn't just bond the boy, did you?"

Something had gone wrong, as Minerva could Feel Severus' pain, could Sense that her left arm was whole when it should not be, could Taste how much of Albus' power was being poured into Severus' empty magical void to stabilize the boy. Her own power was leaving her, in a slow, steady stream, in order to gently help magically nourish the wee ... sprogling... Sprogling? It was a wee bairn, not a sprogling.

"You didn't just accidentally bond the _**THREE**_ of us, did you, Albus?" Minerva spat.

She never heard Albus' response, as an exhausted and injured Minerva lost consciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer # 1 - These characters aren't mine.

Disclaimer # 2 - Squick fest. non con. mpreg.

* * *

Madam Poppy Pomfrey believed that she had seen it all. In all her many years of dedicated service at Hogwarts, she had witnessed feast, famine, fire, dragons, hexes, curses, love potions that had gone right or completely awry, fights of magical, physical and a combination of both varieties, a werewolf and on more than one occasion, she had even rolled up her sleeves and delivered a baby or two. But she had never found herself standing outside the Headmaster's office, unable to get in during the midst of a Magical Crisis. 

An extremely loud Hogwarts shaking explosion had taken place in Albus' office, and she couldn't gain entrance, as the office was locked up tight. Even the House Elves couldn't get into the office.

"Where's Lupin," she fiercely growled. Normally the most even tempered of souls, the very idea that Albus Dumbledore was injured, possibly dead in his office, no doubt in part due to his overdeveloped sense of whimsy, and that the mediwitch was unable to assist, browbeat or bury him as required had her quite vexed. It would do her no good to badger a corpse, after all, but that didn't mean that Poppy's eulogy would fail to be suitably caustic.

"I'm here, I'm here," Lupin called from the corridor. The DADA Instructor was racing down the hallway at a pace close to a sprint. "What happened?"

"The office is in Lock Down," Poppy explained. "Something's happened in there that's activated the defense wards, and I can't get in."

"Oh, and that's where I come in," Lupin calmly remarked. "It will open for me, and you will have wait outside until I tell you that you can enter, Poppy."

The look on Poppy's face plainly said that she would do no such thing, and the normally easygoing Remus growled.

"Poppy, the last thing Hogwarts need is for our Mediwitch to be injured, especially when Albus may be in need of your help. Agree, Poppy, or I'll have Filius bespell you. Speaking of him, where is he? I might be in need of his assistance."

Rolanda Hooch then arrived at the scene of the crime and she shook her head. It took her a moment to catch her breath.

"Filius is in there," Rolanda gasped, after her low grumble about her need of getting off her broom to exercise more often. "He had a meeting with Minerva and Albus. As far as I know, all three of them were in there, when whatever the hell happened, happened."

"Very well, Rolanda, you're to keep Poppy out of the office until I give the all clear. You have my permission to use physical force if necessary." After seeing Poppy's eyes bulge, Lupin had added that last bit for good measure. "Now, if you don't mind. I have to open Albus' office."

Times like this required a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor to be cool, calm and collected. He needed to instill faith in his colleagues that he was the perfect candidate to handle the current situation. Well, actually he was the only candidate, as the Head Master, the Deputy Head Mistress and the Senior House Head were all on the wrong side of the Office Door.

Yes, outwardly he was the Perfect Picture of Calm Composure, but inwardly, he was running around in circles, and screaming off his bloody fool head. Whatever had happened in Albus' office had not only apparently incapacitated Albus, but Filius Flitwick AND Minerva McGonagall. Three of the strongest mages he knew had been adversely affected, and he was expected to pick up the pieces?

"Very well, Rolanda. If anything happens to me, please contact Kingsley Shacklebolt," Remus stated calmly.

Yes, Rolanda Hooch was settling down, and he gave her a bright smile.

Then he continued to smile as he began to take down the wards that protected Albus' office. That way if he died, he'd have a smile on his face.

_That Remus fellow, always so happy. He even died with a smile on his face after he got bit by a Nargle and developed septicemia._

The time for such whimsical thoughts quickly passed, as he needed to concentrate completely on the wards. They were such complex charms that one false step could cause one level to collapse on top of another, which would then fall onto the next layer.

"No, Poppy, I can't do this any faster," he hissed, as he could feel her eyes shooting daggers into his back. "Well, actually I_**could**_."

"I knew it," Poppy loudly snapped.

"But then I'd run the risk of bloody blowing up the entire school and most of Scotland."

"We don't want that," Pomona Sprout insisted. She had also decided to make an appearance in the hallway, and Remus scowled when he saw Horace Slughorn and the rest of the instructors were now standing in the corridor.

"Who is watching the school?" Remus questioned. He managed not to voice his annoyance, but all the faculty members, including FILCH, were standing in the corridor. All he needed was a House Elf to bring a spot of tea, and comfy chairs for the Greek Chorus.

"We dismissed classes and had the students return to their Common Rooms. Horace had the bright idea to call it a 'drill'," Pomona explained. Her voice was puzzled as though she was surprised that a Slytherin had come up with such a practical idea.

Horace, naturally, heard Pomona's derision, and blithely ignored it. Now, he didn't forget or forgive the comment, but he'd remember it the next time Pomona needed a complex Herbology potion.

"Any idea what happened?" The Potions Master questioned.

"If I could stop answering inquiries, and actually get into the office, I finally might be able to answer that pressing question," snapped Remus.

"Very well, lad, carry on," Horace stated. With a quick snap of his wand, the Potions Master created a comfy chair and sat down. "I'm not stopping you."

He would not scream, he would not scream, Remus vowed. Though he was beginning to believe that the secret reason Albus Dumbledore had a silly little smile on his face whenever Remus saw him was because Albus was a drinker.

* * *

Filius Flitwick regained consciousness, and for a long, painful moment, he wished he hadn't. His head hurt… no… it was long past such descriptions such as hurt, and in fact, it was closer to blinding pain. Filius shut his eyes, and he called out, "Is everyone alright?" 

Least he thought he did, but he didn't hear his voice. After clearing his throat, Filius called out louder. His lips moved, he could feel his breath on his hands, but no sound.

Not good, he thought.

Carefully, he opened his eyes once more. This time he was prepared for the sharp pain caused by the bright light and Filius shielded his eyes with his forearm.

"ALBUS?" Filius bellowed.

He couldn't hear his own voice, but he knew that he had put a great deal of effort into it.

_**I'm deaf. Hopefully, it's temporary. But I need to shield my eyes. Damn it, where are my glasses?**_

Not having a lot of options, and knowing that spellcasting while he was injured was a sure way to end up in the Infirmary, not that he didn't belong there right away, Filius removed his cravat from his neck and used it as a blindfold. With a little bit of magic that couldn't be helped, he managed to make it sheer enough to see shapes through, but dark enough to protect his eyes from the bright light.

Fanfuckingtastic., he couldn't see, couldn't think because of the excruciating pain in his head and he couldn't hear. What the bloody hell had happened?

_Minerva._

_Albus._

They must be hurt. Else they'd be futzing around wondering why he wasn't up and about.

Yes, he fuzzily remembered they had been Locating Severus when everything had gone straight to Hell. Albus had been acting rather odd, even for Albus, dabbling in Blood Magic. In fact, they had located Severus…  
_  
SEVERUS_

Oh Bloody, Bloody Hell. They had found Severus, gotten a port key to the lad, and…

That's when everything went to hell.

* * *

Remus had finally brought down the last ward, and he gingerly opened the door. He ignored someone's (Horace) nasty comment about people hiding behind conservative methods when boldness was required especially since time was quite possibly of the essence. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to throw the Potion Master in front of him as bait, so he'd be the one attacked by blood thirsty, savage Cambions intent on shagging a powerful wizard in order to procreate.

Lupin also promised himself if that he survived this adventure, he'd stop listening to Luna Lovegood's barmy babblings.

"DON'T COME IN!" A bloody, bruised, blindfolded Filius Flitwick screamed. "IT'S A BLOOD RITUAL. DO NOT STEP IN THE BLOOD. YOU NEED TO RESANCTIFY AND PURIFY THE ROOM FROM WHERE YOU ARE."

"Why are you screaming?" Remus questioned. His sharp hearing was picking up the sound of someone… someone_s_ whimpering in fear and pain. "Filius has been hurt, Poppy. I don't know about the others. You still can't come into the room until I tell you! ROLANDA! Keep her out of the room!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU! CAN YOU HEAR ME? NOD YOUR HEAD IF YOU CAN HEAR ME."

Remus nodded his head, and Filius cursed.

"ALBUS, MINERVA AND POSSIBLY SEVERUS ARE IN THE ROOM." Filius continued to bellow, as he had no idea at the volume at which he was broadcasting. 'THEY WERE IN THE APEX WHEN THE SPELL COLLAPSED."

"Severus?" gasped the Greek Chorus who stood behind Lupin.

"Oh my giddy aunt! They've found the boy!" Pomona cheerily announced before she hugged a startled Horace Slughorn.

There was a loud sound from the room, a wounded animal's cry of pain, but amplified. It had to be an animal, Remus thought, as no human should be reduced to making such a sound.

"Enough! I need to get INTO the room." Remus snapped. "Everyone into the corridor, NOW."

Poppy gave him a fierce look so he quickly amended his fierce statement with a, "Except for Poppy."

* * *

Severus Tobias Snape was off his broom, completely and utterly off his broom. 

That was the only explanation, as there could be no other justification for the fact that a blindfolded Filius Flitwick was screaming, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?" at the top of the Charm Instructor's little itty bitty lungs in the middle of Albus' office at Hogwarts.

Giggling insanely during bouts of weeping hysterically, he had assured Filius that he could hear him just fine but still the instructor continued bellowing.

"DON'T COME IN! IT'S A BLOOD RITUAL. DO NOT STEP IN THE BLOOD. YOU NEED TO RESANCTIFY AND PURIFY THE ROOM FROM WHERE YOU ARE."

"Why are you screaming?" Remus questioned.

_**REMUS? REMUS LUPIN?**_

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU! CAN YOU HEAR ME? NOD YOUR HEAD IF YOU CAN HEAR ME."

Flitwick launched into a set of curses that would shame a hag, and Severus laughed even harder. The saintly, much respected Filius Flitwick would never utter such salty language.

Originally, Sev had been quite alarmed at the very idea that perhaps he had been rescued, and Remus Lupin would find him in such a beraggled state, looking like a soap-dodger and smelling more than a bit niffy. But far worse for Severus would to be face to face with the real Albus while he was covered in fresh polyjuiced Albus' spunk, all sprogged up, complete with a belly and sore man boobs.

"ALBUS, MINERVA AND POSSIBLY SEVERUS ARE IN THE ROOM." Filius continued to bellow. 'THEY WERE IN THE APEX WHEN THE SPELL COLLAPSED."

No. No. Please, Merlin, the Dark Lord had decided to increase his torment. Albus hadn't actually…. _**Rescued**_… him?

Cautiously, he turned his head. On his left side, a bloodied, no… not… _**lifeless**_…, she couldn't be dead, she just couldn't be. NOT MINERVA. Not the compassionate, empathetic woman who had gently warned him against his hopeless, childish fascination with Albus.

No, she couldn't be _**dead**_.

She had to be knocked out due to the collapsing spell; he refused to consider that the human dynamo known as Minerva McGonagall was deceased. Not now, not when he needed her empathy more than ever.

In all those years as fellow House Heads forced to present The Sex Talk to a bunch of know it all brats, how many times had they needed to sit together as they held The Serious Talk with a pregnant witch? How many times had he made The Potion and left it by a student's bedside? How often had the student decided to keep the child?

Severus had never understood why a seventeen year old girl would want to be saddle with a mewling brat until one of his Slytherins, a thin girl with haunted eyes who had reminded him too much of himself, had given him the answer. Clarisse had such potential, and yet, she had given up everything for a frantic shag with a Hufflepuff who hadn't wanted to acknowledge the fact that he had gotten a Slytherin wench up the duff.

Merlin knew he had tried to give the girl some much needed advice, warning her that it was a dog's dinner to have a child out of wedlock, but Clarisse had insisted. So as her House Head, he had supported her decision. When her Hufflepuff paramour transferred out of Hogwarts for 'private instruction', and her parents had disowned her for keeping her spawn, he had been the one to sit with her during her long hours of labor.

When at long last his screaming goddaughter had been delivered, Clairisse had softly crooned to it. Only through his heightened hearing honed by far too many years of teaching was he able to hear what she was saying.

"My parents never loved me. Jamie assured me that he loved me, but he just wanted to get into my knickers. But I know you love your mommy, my beautiful little girl. For the first time in my life, someone will love me. _**ME**_._**Unconditionally**_."

McGonagall was in the fetal position, both of her hands still maintaining a painful death grip on his left arm in spite of Minerva being unconscious … his left arm… that ended… half way between his shoulder and his elbow…

Terrified, fearful that he was about to spew as the full realization of the current situation was overwhelming him, Severus turned his head to the right.

_**Please, Merlin, don't let it be…**_

ALBUS.

Albus' lenses were cracked and his spectacles' frame was bent cockeyed as they had landed near the wizard's limp hand. Albus' unrestrained long hair was wild and snarled in knots, there was bright, red blood oozing from his mouth and his newly rebroken nose. The Headmaster wasn't stirring.

He wasn't moving at all.

But his blue eyes were _**open**_ and staring at Severus in a manner that Severus could only describe as absolute loathing.

The scream that Severus had been biting back finally erupted from his lips. He was still shrieking when Remus entered the room.

* * *

Three hours later. Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. 

Once again, Remus Lupin was calmly explaining to Kingsley Shacklebolt everything that he knew regarding the current situation involving what had occurred in Dumbledore's office.

"For the last time, Kingsley, I don't have a bloody clue what the hell happened. Filius is the only one of the four that's able to talk at the moment. But he won't be able to answer your questions unless you write them down," Remus explained to Kingsley for the one billionth time.

"And Severus?" Shacklebolt questioned in his deep voice.

"Poppy says that it's doubtful that she can reattach his arm, as both locations where the amputation took place are quite septic," Remus explained for the forty seventh time.

"They should be in St. Mungo's Hospital," Kingsley authoritatively decided for what was now the twenty-seventh time.

"You've got three School Instructors involved in an accident caused by a Blood Magic ritual. Do you really…"

"Believe that Albus would want that in the Daily Prophet?" Shacklebolt answered. "Yes, I know that I'm repeating myself. I'm just concerned."

The Auror looked around at the classroom, and scowled when he saw the painting depicting the Cruciatius Curse. He then turned a most fearsome glare upon the purple haired Nymphadora Tonks who was not bothered taking part in the conversation that had begun repeating itself some hours previously.

His voice was stern when he thundered, "Auror Tonks, I've just found out that you're skiving off the afternoon to spend some time here with your boyfriend!"

Tonks stood up quickly, and accidentally knocked a book unto the floor. She blushed, and quickly magicked back to place.

"You are, Tonks? You didn't tell me that," Remus teasingly protested. "Unless you've got another boyfriend hanging around here?"

"It's all the protection I can give you, as I will tell the Aurors Office that Tonks is here for that reason." Shacklebolt quickly explained to stop the lovers quarrel that was about to erupt. "I'll contact the rest of the Order regarding recent events. Please keep me posted."

Shacklebolt quickly left the room, and then Remus Lupin gazed happily at Tonks. The witch gave him a wicked smile, and then whispered something in his ear. The werewolf listened for a bit, and then he laughed.

"Yes, I was exceedingly foolish to enter Albus' office first and I didn't realize how worried I made you both. Is Sirius in my quarters?" Remus questioned.

"Yes, and he's angry," Tonks admitted. "So let's go have the fight, and then make up. Repeatedly."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall ignored Poppy's urgent request to sit down. She would sit down when and only if she decided to sit down, and well, if she decided to sit down then and there, it wasn't because Poppy was ordering her to do so! 

"How are the boys?" Minerva questioned as she collapsed into a chair.

"Fillius' hearing should return with the next day or so. I've given him assorted potions about ten minutes ago and tucked him into bed in one of isolation chambers. He was asleep before I left the room. I'll be checking on him all through the night."

"Albus?" Minerva questioned.

"Weaker than I like to see in a man of his age. He's still rather dazed and extremely concerned about Severus. He was getting quite wound up, demanding information about Severus and I finally put him to sleep. I expect him to have a long lie in tomorrow as he'll be sleeping off the potion I gave him."

Minerva nodded her head, and then asked about Severus, "And?"

"It's a bloody good thing that Filius was conscious and gave me the alert on what to expect. Else I would have been completely gobsmacked when I examined him. He's in a bad way, Min. Not just because of that, but his arm. He's refusing to let me reattach it."

"What?" Minerva protested. She quickly stood up in order to find Severus and talk some sense into the boy, and Poppy not so gently grabbed her by the arm to prevent Minerva from collapsing.

"You're being rather dense, Min, there's no way you can run around like nothing happened today," Poppy snapped, as she helped Minerva sit back down. "But Severus doesn't want me to reattach the arm. He's insisting on it, claiming that it's the only way he'll ever be free of the Dark Mark. Also, the wound wasn't cleaned properly and it was deliberately left to fester. Minerva, if I did manage to reattach his arm, Severus would in all probability lose the use of his elbow, his hand and his fingers, besides being in near constant pain. Whoever took the arm off had no skill, a butcher would have done it cleaner."

"That poor boy," Minerva whispering, remembering how agile Severus' hands were. Whether as a Potions Master, Defense Against the Dark Arts Instructor or even as a lover, Severus always taken such pride in his nimble hands. "Poppy? You didn't leave him alone, did you?"

"Rolanda's sitting with him now," Poppy admitted. "I didn't tell her what exactly happened, just that the boy has been Cruciated repeatedly."

"ROLANDA?" That bit of information gave her enough energy for her to stand on her feet. "I'll sit with him, Poppy."

"Rolanda can be quite soothing when she wants to be. I've warned her to be on her best behavior."

"Rolanda!" The very idea of Rolanda Hooch with Severus empowered her enough to actually storm through the infirmary to locate the boy. She found him in an isolation room, a thin figure hidden under far too many blankets.

"Min!" Rolanda whispered. The witch quickly hugged Minerva and then motioned for her to take the chair. "He's been so worried about you, even after Poppy assured him that the three of you were fine. I'm so glad you're here."

"Go, I'll stay with him." She made a shooing motion with her hands, and Rolanda gave her a doubtful look.

"Poppy?" Rolanda questioned.

"She can sit with him for a bit," Poppy decided. "Maybe thirty minutes?"

It didn't matter to her, as she walked over to the side of the bed where Severus was resting. He was lying on his right side, staring at the wall, and she sat next to him on the mattress. Her heart broke, as the boy looked as though he had been ridden hard and hung up wet.

"Sev," she whispered. "I'm here, dear. May I hold your hand?"

"No," Severus' utterance was a soft, hoarse ruin of his former glorious voice. "I'm sorry…. If there was anyone that I could bear … to touch me… it would be you."

"We're going now; call us, Min, if you two need anything. I'll be back in thirty minutes with some more potions for Severus," Poppy reminded her. "Min, there's a green vial on the chest of drawers. Sev, you can drink it as it's the one we discussed earlier. You know what ingredients are in it, and that it won't cause an adverse reaction. Min, he'll be very talkative after he's taken the dose, so please wait until we both leave. "

After a few minutes of silence, Severus softly questioned, "Are they gone?"

"Yes, they are," Minerva assured him.

He sighed in relief, and Minerva tried to blink back her tears. Severus struggled for a moment, determined to do so under his own power, before he was in a sitting position. The exertion left him winded, and Severus closed his eyes. After a few minutes, Severus opened his eyes, and nodded his head toward the potion.

"Here," she offered, as she put the vial to his lips.

He swallowed it in one gulp, his face twisting in obvious displeasure. "That was _**foul**_. Need to rest for a little bit."

After a brief time, Severus appeared somewhat stronger, and he moved to a more comfortable position. His left arm was hidden beneath the blanket, and his right hand compulsively clenched at the blanket.

"Minerva, I consider you a friend." Severus admitted that slowly, as thought that confession was difficult for him to voice.

"And I consider you a friend also," she quickly assured him. "Now don't say anything, Severus, you need to rest."

"No… I have to say this; it's the reason why Poppy gave me the draught. I need to talk to you, and do so quickly while the potion is making me talkative. Minerva, I've often thought that you were my only friend. You warned me about _**him**_," he whispered.. "Would that I have been strong enough to follow your advice regarding my unhealthy obsession. I endeavored to do so, you know. I really did."

"I know you did, dear. Severus, what you felt for him wasn't unhealthy; it's just that he'd never reciprocate your feelings," Minerva gently explained. "There's no shame in loving him, Severus. I just didn't want you to squander your precious youth hoping for more from him. Albus is… damaged…"

She paused, wondering why she was defending Albus to Severus.

"But he's like the sea, you know," Severus softly explained. "And I'm so weak right now. He'll engulf and overpower me so easily. I'll drown… in the blue waters of the sea… unless Minerva… you help me?"

"Yes," she promised. "I'll help you."

"He'll want to talk to me. I am so weak right now, that he'll be able to convince me of the necessity of following his wishes in a particular matter. Minerva, what do you know of…" Severus paused, and then bit his lip before he continued. "Paters Gignere Ingeniter?"  
_  
_"Severus, I know," she whispered.

As she feared, the shattered Severus reacted badly to her bluntness.

"He _**told**_ you?" Severus fearfully questioned.

"Yes, Albus informed me of what happened, and some of what they did to you." Truth demanded that she add, "He was quite upset over what happened."

Severus looked away from her, and he began softly muttering to himself. "Albus must have made his plans already. He must have. He's had time to prepare, and I'm so ill equipped for our looming clash."

He then turned back to Minerva, and he began whispering to her.

"Minerva, I beg of you, don't let him take it from me. Legally, he has no right to it, no justification to insist on termination, and most importantly no obligations to it as he _**didn't**_ sire it. Biologically, the child may be his, but it is not a child of his intent. I've asked Poppy to confirm the conception date. Once that's been confirmed, Albus will not be able to legally request that I terminate it."

"Lad? You want it?" She tried to keep her concern from her voice. Times like this, Minerva needed to project an aura of calm acceptance.

Snape seemed deeply troubled, as though he was thinking one thought, and voicing another. Merlin's Beard, was Severus under a_**Compulsion**_?

"I've had the misfortune of loving people, who did not return my affection. My parents, Lily, Albus…. For the first time in my life, there is someone who will unconditionally return my love. I know this is so, because I loved my parents, though they did not love me."

"Severus, how can I help you in this?" Left unsaid was that she thought the boy was in no physical or emotional condition to have this child on his own. Like it or not, Severus Snape had just landed himself a nursemaid that would make Poppy the harridan look easygoing.

"He'll desire to speak to me in private, to keep this shame quiet. You will insist on being there during these conversations. If I weaken in my conviction, you will need to create a distraction." Severus pleaded.

"Yes, I would have insisted on attending any conversations you have with Albus, even without you asking," she easily agreed.

"The potion's wearing off," Severus slurred. "One last question and I fear it is the most important. Would you consider being Godmother to the child?"

"Severus…" Minerva whispered, stunned by his request.

"I do not expect an immediate answer, Minerva, as you will need to carefully weigh your decision. If anything happens to me, I would have you to raise the child. You have always been fair to my Slytherins. Would you be able to care for my misbegotten child?"

"I'll love it as if it were of my own blood and body, Severus." That promise was easy to make, for she had once dearly wanted children of her own.

"Will you swear to protect her from Albus? No doubt, she'll fall under his spell, much I did, and he will break her heart." Severus' voice was plaintive, and his dark eyes were full of fear.

"Yes, I'll keep her safe," she promised. "When you're stronger, I'll swear an Unbreakable Vow."

For his answer, Severus squeezed her hand. It was quick, frightened gesture, and she hid her tears once more.

"Let me tuck you in, Severus. You and the wee Bairn need you to rest," she reminded him.

"Bairn? It's a sprogling," he retorted, a faint flash of his acerbic manner returning.

Flashes of memory that made no sense to her came to the forefront of her mind and Minerva wondered where she had heard the term sprogling before. So much of what happened in Albus' office was still a blur to her, perhaps Albus had called the child a sprogling?

"I'm a Scottish Godmother, Severus, I will call it a bairn," Minerva insisted.

* * *

The next day, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a most unique experience in a lifetime full of exceptional experiences, when he was most assuredly outranked and outmaneuvered by Madame Pompfrey. While Dumbledore was in charge of the school, the mediwitch held dominion in the Infirmary, and sometimes she had no qualms about putting Albus in his place. 

"You can not speak to Severus at this time, Head Master."

Albus had to give the mediwitch proper credit, she was at least making an effort to be polite.

"I am quite concerned about his condition, Poppy," the Head Master patiently explained.

"And I'm _**not**_,?" The retort came to Poppy's lips quickly, her tone dripping acid.

"I never said that," Dumbledore reminded her. "You know that Severus has me listed as the person empowered to make all his medical decisions if he's incapacitated or he's deemed unable to make rational decision regarding his healthcare."

Poppy's eyes narrowed, as she detected the faintest whiff of a looming ethical dilemma.

"For my own comfort, I'd like to see how the boy is doing," Albus explained. "Considering what has been inflicted to him, and how it was done, surely you can understand why I wish to see him."

"And you most surely can understand why my patient may not wish to see you," Poppy calmly stated.

Dumbledore conceded the point, and then he softly requested, "Can you not ask him if he'll let me visit? I'll abide by his wishes, but I am sincerely concerned about Severus."

Poppy nodded her head once and agreed. "I hate you when you get sincere, Albus. It's impossible to turn you down, but you can see him only if Severus agrees,"

The mediwitch hustled out of her office, and Albus summoned a House Elf. It was Dobby, and he was wearing a tea cozy among assorted oddities, and he greeted the Head Master warmly.

"Ah, Dobby, I am wondering if you could do a favor for a barmy old codger," Albus questioned.

"Dobby doesn't wish to call you that, Sir," Dobby insisted, his big eyes full of disapproval. "Dobby likes Albus very much, Sir."

"I deserve to be called far worse, Dobby. But now, I need you to arrange for two platters of Ecckle Cakes be sent to the Slytherin Common Room. Make sure that you note on the platters that it's compliments of me. If you can, I'll also need a small plate of them. Bring that here, please."

"Dobby is delighted to serve!" The House Elf cheerily assured him and then Dobby carefully asked. "But Dobby wish to confirm, Sir. Eccle Cakes is only for the Slytherins?"

"Yes," Albus agreed. "Just ensure the House Elves have their share, though. Hopefully Severus won't be bothered by that traditional courtesy."

Dobby quickly popped out, and before long, he had returned with a large plate of Ecckle Cakes. It was gaily adorned with an Emerald Green and Silver ribbon, and Albus thanked the House Elf. The Head Master sat in Poppy's office, thinking dark thoughts and wondering how he'd be able to salvage the current state of affairs, when Poppy returned.

"He's agreed to see you," Poppy informed Albus.

"Thank you," Albus interrupted. He picked up the plate of Ecckle Cakes, and showed them to Poppy. "I'll endeavor to ensure that he doesn't eat too many of these."

"Hold it, Albus. The boy's well and truly gutted over what happened. I've given him an assortment of potions in order for you to have a chat with the boy. You're to make this quick, or else, Head Master or no Head Master, you will deal with me."

Albus nodded his head in agreement, and then Poppy dropped a real bombshell.

"He's also insisting that Minerva sit in on the conversation."

* * *

Severus was clutching her hand so tightly that Minerva knew that she'd have a bruise. The boy didn't want to face Albus, but he had agreed to do so only to get the much feared conversation out of the way. 

Minerva and Poppy had managed to get the boy into clean clothes, and had him sitting in his bed. He was off color, and Snape had spewed earlier, necessitating the change in clothes. His dark eyes were glassy, and he was compulsively swallowing.

"It's alright, love. I'm here," she assured him. "He won't hurt you, not while I'm here."

That promise earned a nod of his head, and the two of them sat there, until there was a knock on the door.

"Severus, Minerva, it is Albus. May I enter?"

Glancing at the boy, who nodded his head once, Minerva then assured Albus that he could enter the room.

The door gradually and quietly opened, and Albus entered Severus' sick room. Minerva noticed that the Head Master had changed his appearance. His long hair was loosely braided and pulled away from face, and he was wearing a simple, dark colored robe. When Albus walked into a room, his presence usually dominated everyone's attention. He was _**Albus Dumbledore**_, after all, but today, he appeared nothing more than an old, exhausted, man, heavily burdened with concerns and sorrows.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Severus," Albus softly stated. "May I sit?"

Severus nodded once, and Albus pulled a chair close to the bed. He watched Severus as he did so, and he positioned the chair carefully, as though attempting to find a suitable distance that would make Severus feel secure.

"Minerva, may I give you the Eccle cakes that I brought for Severus?" Albus gently questioned.

With her free hand, Minerva took the plate from him, and she noticed that a sharp eyed Albus had observed that Severus was holding onto her hand tightly. His eyebrow arched in concern, and then Albus glanced at Minerva, and then Severus, obviously wondering about their relationship.

"I sent two platters to the Slytherin Common Room, Severus. Like I promised you that I would," Albus calmly stated, as though he had not noticed Severus' unease. "I assured Poppy that you wouldn't have too many."

That exchange earned Albus a shallow nod from Severus.

"Severus, how are you?" Albus' voice was soft and soothing.

"Quite well, thank you for asking," Severus politely replied, as though they were exchanging pleasantries at the Head Table. "And you?"

"Quite concerned about you, truth be told. What can I do for you? How can I assist you?"

"You need not be concerned. I am _**quite**_ well," Severus' hoarse voice belied his cheery assurance. "You have far more important issues that require your attention."

It was the first time in twenty odd years; Minerva saw that Albus was at a complete loss of what to say. Twenty years ago, it had been Minerva gently informing Albus that their passionate affair had come to an end. Now, like then, a staggered Albus was quite bewildered, obviously scrambling to find some words to make everything better, to ease the pain that he had caused through his failings.

_**There are no magic charms that will heal his wounds, Albus, just time and compassion.**_

"Severus, at this moment in time, I can assure you that there is no one more important," Albus assured him.

Severus' voice was monotone as he began to talk. "I hope you will permit me to stay here at Hogwarts until Poppy declares me healthy enough to leave, Head Master. Do you still have my personal affects? They were not numerous, but some were…. important … to me."

His voice grew shaky as he admitted that.

"Yes, Filius oversaw the packing. He took a great deal of care with your belongings, I assure you."

"Head Master? Would it be possible to allow me the brief use of a House Elf?" Severus' voice was calm, but his hand squeezed even tighter onto Minerva's, and she had to bite back a gasp of pain.

Merlin's bloody pants! Severus had nearly broke her hand just then!

"You don't need to ask, Severus. All staff members may make use of the House Elves."

"I must, as I will require their help in transporting my belongings back to Spinners End. House Elves are not allowed to leave Hogwarts without permission of the Head Master, therefore I require your consent."

"You're leaving?" Albus was surprised, and he glanced at Minerva for confirmation that he heard correctly.

Severus hadn't mentioned that tidbit to her, and she shrugged her shoulders, signifying that it was news to her.

"Yes, right now I am not much better than a squib. I can not teach Defense, nor can I teach Potions… in my current condition, and I do not foresee a change… in my status for some time. Perhaps after the child is born, I will regain use of my magic."

"You're… keeping… it?" Albus' voice was shocked, and he instinctively reached toward Severus.

There was no doubt in Minerva's mind that Albus meant it for a comforting gesture, but the boy shied away from him. The boy moved closer to Minerva for protection, and Albus let his hand drop to his side.

"Yes. Understand that I know you have no obligations to this child. Biologically, it is yours, but legally, it is a nameless bastard that can not inherit or use your name. By that, you also have no rights with regards to it." Severus' voice broke, and he began shaking.

"Severus?" Albus questioned. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Severus stated. "I will remove myself from your sight. Albus, I must beseech you to be merciful and for you not to be prejudiced against if it attends Hogwarts. Its manner of conception nor the person who carried it to term, should not be held against it. It is an innocent, Albus. I beg you to look kindly upon it."

Albus' eyes were a blazing shade of blue, and he nodded his head.

"But, Severus, you have failed to address one very important issue. What if I'm the true father? What if Poppy discovers that the baby was in fact, created on Christmas, on the night when I took an inconsolable boy to my bed? Do you believe that I will simply step aside and let you flee to Spinners End? Do you think that I will not claim my rights? If necessary, I will go to the Wizengamot, and argue my case."

"No," Severus whispered. "Minerva… _**please**_…"

"Minerva, you do understand that it highly unlikely that Severus will actually prevail in the Wizengamot against the Chief Warlock?"

"Albus?" Minerva softly questioned. "Is this vindictiveness truly necessary?"

"That's a question that you truly need to ask Severus, Minerva," retorted Albus. "Severus?"


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer #1 - not my characters.

Disclaimer # 2 - Mpreg. Non Con.

A/N # 1 - thanks to those that have reviewed. Thanks also to Excessively Perky for her comments.

A/N # 2 - Happy Birthday, Jessica! Thanks for reading!

* * *

"But, Severus, you have failed to address one very important issue. What if I'm the true father? What if Poppy discovers that the baby was in fact, created on Christmas, on the night when I took an inconsolable boy to my bed? Do you believe that I will simply step aside and let you flee to Spinners End? Do you think that I will not claim my rights? If necessary, I will go to the Wizengamot, and argue my case." 

"No," Severus whispered. "Minerva… _**please**_…"

"Minerva, you do understand that it highly unlikely that Severus will actually prevail in the Wizengamot against the Chief Warlock?"

"Albus?" Minerva softly questioned. "Is this vindictiveness truly necessary?"

"That's a question that you truly need to ask Severus, Minerva," retorted Albus. "Severus?"

"Minerva?" The shattered Slytherin plaintively whispered to her. "Why does he_**hate**_ me so?"

She couldn't just merrily sit by and do nothing while Dumbledore compounded the damage Severus had experienced. Therefore Minerva McGonagall took a deep breath and roared like the Gryffindor Lioness that she was.

"Albus! _**Enough**_! You will leave now, or Merlin help me, I will hex you into next week!"

For a moment, Albus' façade slipped, and a concerned Minerva saw that the Head Master was truly furious. Their strong friendship was tearing and straining from the trauma, and a worried Minerva had never witnessed Albus this enraged, not even when Harry's parents had died. Albus' bright and shiny façade of a whimsical, pain in the ass, eccentric professor was a ruse, intended to hoodwink others into underestimating how truly powerful he was. Even though she had known Albus, and known him intimately for many years, Minerva often overlooked the fact that he was the wizard who had defeated the nefarious Gellert Grindelwald. Not now, as Minerva saw That Mage, the One who had Bravely Stood Against all that Gellert Grindlewald Represented. His emotional slip lasted only for a brief moment, and then a composed Albus nodded his head.

"Minerva McGonagall, as you've apparently been elected to serve as Severus' barrister, we will continue this discussion in my office. Thirty minutes, Professor." Albus' tone was quite wry.

"It will be my pleasure, Head Master," she politely answered, refusing to voice her own fury. Severus' healing could only be hampered being in the midst of a battle between two titans.

Her cold, reserved tone combined with the use of his official title seemed to shock Albus back to his senses. He turned away from Severus and Minerva and Albus faced the door.

"Severus, lad… I know you won't believe me… but I do not hate you. _**Nothing**_ could be further from the truth."

Severus' lone response was to only clench her hand still harder.

Minerva could barely hear Albus' voice when he once again spoke.

"Please forgive me, Severus. I am still feeling the affects of our exertions to free you, and I'm afraid that I'm rather waspish. What I just said just now, Minerva, Severus, was not stated in the manner or in the tenor that I would have wished for this fragile situation. I would never bring this matter to the Wizengamot, as I could imagine all too well how Rita Skeeter and her poison pen would twist and warp this delicate, private matter. Please accept my sincerest apologies for my boorish behavior."

A nod of his head was Severus' only response and Minerva quietly accepted Albus' apology.

"I would humbly request… that if the child is joyfully discovered to be the results of our lovemaking on Christmas night rather than….otherwise, Severus, will you please kindly allow me the courtesy of being involved with your decisions."

* * *

Minerva was grateful when Poppy appeared almost immediately after a subdued Albus left. She had a small green potion bottle in her hand, and the mediwitch gave Severus a long, measuring look.

"Drink all of it, with none of your back talk," Poppy demanded. "Yes, it's a Class 1 potion, which means it's safe for you to ingest. After it takes affect, I want to examine your arm. It's time to change the dressing, and I want to ensure that the rather infection has resolved."

Her patient drank it quickly, with nary a comment about the taste, and Poppy shook her head. She sat down next to Severus' bed, and the mediwitch gently stroked his pale cheek.

"You must be feeling poorly, Severus, if you're not telling me how much you could improve upon it. Now close your eyes, and get some sleep," Poppy soothingly crooned. "No nightmares, dear. You have my word on it."

He nodded his head once, and closed his eyes. In a few minutes, the Slytherin was deeply asleep. His hand was still firmly grasping Minerva's hand, though, and Minerva wondered about how to extricate herself without waking him.

"You can probably free your hand from his death grip now," Poppy whispered. "He won't wake for another four hours. Now, let me see it."

She extended her hand, and the meditwitch poked, prodded and requested that she make a fist. The Gryffindor Head wasn't able to make a fist without gasping in discomfort and pain, and Poppy disapprovingly shook her head.

"Good news, Minerva, it's not broken," Poppy authoritatively declared, before she tossed a small tube at Minerva. "Just badly bruised. He's got quite the grip, and I'm sure he has no idea that how strong he is. Rub that on your hand, and it will heal."

Minerva gingerly applied the medication to her hand, and it was first icy and then it burned. The vivid bruises faded from her hand, and she was able to make a fist without wincing.

"I take it that the talk between Albus and Severus did not go well. Severus looked rather gutted, and Albus didn't look much better when he left," Poppy dryly commented. "No, don't you go anywhere, Min. You've got a strong stomach and I need help changing his bandages. I'm trying to keep Severus' care limited to people that I can trust completely to keep their mouths shut. Filius can't handle this, as he's such a gentle soul."

The mediwitch uncovered Severus' arm, and she expertly removed the bandage with a minimum of fuss.

"It's healing nicely," Poppy commented. She flicked and swished with her wand, and then performed several complex incantations. "I'm casting anti-infection, fast healing and anti pain charms. Would you mind holding his arm for me?"

Even though she'd rather face an angry Albus than tend to Severus' war wounds, Minerva, being Gryffindor down to her color coordinated pants, agreed to assist Poppy. She pulled her chair over to where Poppy was sitting, and Minerva sat down.

"Don't worry, the wound is completely closed. It's just smooth skin," Poppy assured her. "Just hold it."

Poppy guided Minerva into positioning her hands properly, and Minerva tried not to look at Severus' stump. To gawk at it, was nothing more a blatant violation of Severus' privacy, much like the female prefects taking a gander when the male prefects were bathing. Not that she had ever gotten caught doing such a thing when she was younger, but she knew where that peephole had been located, and the first thing she had done as a Hogwarts Instructor was seal it.

"Merlin's pants, Minerva, you need to look at it! The boy will require assistance in getting dressed when I release him from the infirmary. He'll need someone who will be able to look at his arm, and not start scriking."

"Severus seems particularly fond of making people burst into tears. It's skill that's been finely honed over the years," Minerva retorted. "Why disappoint him?"

Poppy laughed, and nodded her head. "Good, that's exactly how you need to be with him. Treat him as the acerbic, nasty git he always was. Don't pamper him, and don't suffocate him with compassion."

"Severus isn't always a nasty git," Minerva softly protested. She then gathered her courage and intentionally looked at Severus' arm, deliberately taking a long glance at the ugly, tight scar where his arm so abruptly ended, and Poppy approvingly nodded her head.

"There's a great deal of nerve inflammation which is causing my patient a great deal of discomfort. Let me show you a spell that will ease his pain. We can't keep using the cream on Severus' arm, as it's a Class 2 medication. Class 2s can be used sparingly, only as deemed medically necessary during the first trimester."

Once the spell was demonstrated, Minerva repeated it until Poppy approved. The mediwitch was a harsh task mistress, and Minerva was rapidly losing her considerable patience with Poppy's dismissive comments on her swish and flick technique when Poppy finally gave her grudging endorsement on her technique.

"I'm quite surprised that you went into Transfiguration, Minerva. I still think you should have gone for Healer Training," Poppy grudgingly admitted. "You've got the skill and the empathy."

"You always say that," Minerva sniped, but secretly she was pleased. Poppy rarely gave out compliments, especially with regards to her profession.

"But I mean it!" Poppy exclaimed.

* * *

She was close to an hour late for their conference when Minerva finally arrived at Albus' office. Minerva wasn't planning on offering an apology as she had a very good reason for being late. Being able to offer Severus pain relief was more important than any summit. Plus, Albus's earlier behavior still grated on her nerves. The door opened for her, and Minerva was surprised to find Albus sitting in his darkened bedroom. He was wearing a bronze colored silk dressing gown, and his hair was loosely braided.

"I believed that you had decided to skive off our conference." His normally booming and exuberant voice sounded thin and exhausted, and he slowly stood. "I'll meet you in my office. It's not respectable for me to have a meeting with a maiden witch in my bedroom. I know that propriety demands that I not wear my dressing robe, but I'm too bloody tired to change. Is that alright?"

"Albus? Are you feeling well?" Minerva questioned. It was barely one in the afternoon, and Albus was dressed for bed?

The Head Master didn't answer her question until he sat down at his desk. There were dozens of ancient tomes on his desk, including a honest to Merlin copy of _**Scinncræft Wicung tō Scinnl**__**ǣ**__**ca**_ by Godric Gryffindor. He offered her a chair, and she gratefully sat down.

"Minerva, I fear that recent events have sullied your kind regard for me," Albus slowly confessed.

"You were brutal with Severus," the witch honestly stated. "But if you're reading Godric's_**Magical Spells for Wizards**_ in the original Old English, then you no doubt have a headache the size of Hogwarts. Migraine or not, there's still no excuse for traumatizing Severus further. But how did you get your hands on _**that**_particular book?"

"Flitwick, as the Head of Ravenclaw, has a rather extensive library. Rowena was a voracious reader, and she had ensured that her Head of House has access to her collection," Albus explained.

"Rowena _**owned**_ that book?" Minerva asked. How she longed to touch it, an honest to Merlin relic from the founding days of Hogwarts. However did Albus manage to acquire it?

"It's a copy. Filius can't let the original leave his quarters, but he copied it for me. I've been researching _Paters Gignere Ingeniter, _eversince I escaped the not so tender mercies of our Mediwitch. Minerva, if Severus is truly determined to bring this child to term, pray to whatever higher power you believe in that I'm the father."

"So you can inflect your recent bad behavior on Severus for the next seven or so months?" Minerva tartly quipped.

"Minerva, I remember that I sincerely apologized for my outburst. Perhaps, you were occupied at that moment, and you missed it Or do you plan on rubbing my nose in it until you're satisfied?" Albus snapped. He waved his hand, and sighed. "Of all the times I need to be on my best behavior, I feel like I've been used like a Bludger by the Holywood Harpies in their amazing defeat of Heidelberg Harriers in that seven-day match in 1953. Did you see that game?"

"I did not, as you may have forgotten that I was in my first year at Hogwarts," Minerva primly reminded him. It wasn't true, not by a long shot, but this old joke was a comfortable jest between them.

"Professor McGonagall, are you stating that I hired you as the Transfiguration Professor when you were just a third year student? You must have been truly outstanding as a student," Albus dryly commented. His eyes were sparkling with mischief and Minerva permitted herself a small smile.

"Forget trying to distract me with idle flattery, Albus," the Transfiguration Professor retorted. "Why should you being the father bring tears of relief to Severus? He's quite determined to do this on his own."

"According to Godric, _Paters Gignere Ingeniter, _was far more often used in the past…" Albus' voice was sonorous, which meant he was working on a full head of steam.

"Give me the condensed version rather than the full novel, Albus?" Minerva quipped. "I'll tell everyone that you bludgeoned me with the details."

"Very well. Perhaps you noticed that I'm a moderately powerful wizard," Albus impishly confessed.

Minerva bit her lip from zinging him with a caustic comment about him being a powerful though rather immodest mage.

"Severus is also a moderately powerful wizard. _Paters Gignere Ingeniter _is Blood Magic. Blood Magic, unwillingly and unknowingly inflicted on its victim, combined with the deceptive use of Polyjuice Potion, an exceptionally traumatizing conception compounded with repeated abuse, Schaum's Third Law of Causality states…" The Head Master of Hogwarts stopped and refused to continue.

"It will be a_**monster**_," Minerva whispered.

"There is a high probability that the resulting child will make Voldemort appear to be no more than a petulant two year old. Minerva, explain to me, why does Severus want the child? I never thought he particularly liked children. I'm trying to understand what he is thinking and why." Albus voice was concerned.

"Severus doesn't like children," McGonagall slowly admitted. "But Severus wants the child because he believes it will give him unconditional love he's always wanted."

"Absolute unconditional love?" Albus questioned. "I'd expect that naive answer from a starry eyed sixteen year old Hufflepuff, Minerva, NOT from Severus."

"I'll be vexed if you repeat this, but our boy claims that in his life, he's unreservedly loved four people. None of which loved him back." That painful, heart wrenching confession came slowly to her lips, and Minerva shook her head.

"Eileen, Tobias, Lily… and who was the fourth?"

"Albus, you know you are the fourth," snapped Minerva. "Who else could it be?"

Her caustic comment earned a gentle smile from Albus. He shook his head, obviously bemused with her dim-wittedness before he softly spoke.

"One day, Minerva McGonagall, you must explain to me why you refuse to believe that anyone could love you? For someone who is so observant, you astound me with what you refuse to see the painfully obvious. I_**loved**_ you, and you never believed me. So, I must regretfully destroy your illusion and inform you, Minerva that Severus lied to you. He's actually loved five people in his life. Severus loves _**you**_, Minerva. It is not the schoolboy crush that he possesses for me, but a deep, abiding affection. It's probably the healthiest emotion he's ever experienced. Minerva. I hope you realize the honor."

Tears came to her eyes, and she shook her head, refusing to accept that. Minerva hadn't wanted to lead the boy on, and she had been very circumspect in their romantic dealings.

"I only took him to my bed, Albus. I warned him not to let the resulting hormones lead his thinking astray, and he never became infatuated with me. We were friend with benefits only, and I know that he doesn't love me," protested Minerva. "Don't you dare claim that I harmed him."

"You didn't hurt him, Min. You physically comforted and emotionally consoled him, and in turn, he learned to trust you. Whose hand did he hold just now? Who did he ask to protect him?" Albus' quiet voice was slamming away at her iron walls.

_**No, no, NO! Albus is attempting to guilt me into merrily agreeing with his schemes.  
**_  
"No," Minerva protested. Her voice was weak, but gradually grew stronger. "The question isn't so much why does Severus want the child, but why does Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore desire the child? I know you've always wanted a child of your own. Here's your opportunity."

"Yes, at one time I wanted a child of my own. I did not hide that fact. Perhaps, I should have, as it was the final reason why you dissolved our relationship. When you discovered that due to that old wound that you couldn't safely carry a child to term, Minerva, I begged you not to leave. I promised you that it mattered not at all to me, but you walked out that door, Min. You thought I didn't love you enough," Albus reminded her. "I _**did**_. You just didn't trust me enough, and I failed to convince you otherwise."

"You wanted a child in the hopes of you making peace with what happened to Ariana," Minerva quietly stated.

"Through my arrogance, thinking of only my self-serving ambition, I failed Ariana, and I failed Aberforth. This time, I swear on my wand, that I will not do so again," Albus insisted.

"Severus doesn't want you anywhere near him as you've been a right nasty git," Minerva not so gently reminded him. "So if you are the father, why won't Schaum's Third Law of Causality be invoked?"

"The Third Law specifically deals with the conception of the child. If I am the father, the child was conceived with tenderness, affection and love…"

"Love?" Minerva barked. **_"LOVE_**?"

"Minerva, that night, Severus_**loved**_ me. At this point of time, it matters not at all that Severus, has discovered what a monster I truly am. Yes, the love he once possessed for me has turned to ash. The Third Law is concerned with the emotions at the time of the _**creation**_. I _**was**_ gentle with him, Minerva. There was affection, honest and genuine, on my part involved, though you refuse to believe it. There was no deception involved, nor was there was force used."

'You truly believe that Severus will accept your help?" Minerva questioned. "What am I saying? You may not be the father, and all this will be a moot point."

"It won't be a moot point. Regardless of what the results of Poppy's exams state, I will offer to support Severus. If he desires to bring the child to term, I will take responsibility for it. Legally, financially, magically. If Severus agrees, I will give the child my name. Minerva, he thought I would be angry with the child, that I would hold its conception against him. Am I that cruel, Minerva? That I would hate a defenseless child?"

"Didn't you begrudge Ariana?" Minerva questioned. "Your mother died, and you had to take care of her."

"I was seventeen years old, Minerva. A very self-absorbed _**seventeen**_ year old. My life was before me, and all I could see was that I was tied to her forever and ever. Yes, I was petulant. Yes, I sulked like the spoiled child I was. Now, my life is almost completely behind me, and I will NOT make that mistake again. I will be attached to this child, because it's imperative that I do so. Severus' magical energy will be depleted before the child is ready to be born. As the acknowledged father, I can supplement his energy and keep them both alive."

Minerva took a deep breath. To her concern, she was weakening and actually considering Albus' suggestions. It would be so easy for her to convince Severus to let Albus help, but… she was Godmother to the child, she needed to protect the two of them from everyone, especially Albus.

"Severus doesn't trust you, Albus. Through his years at Hogwarts, you've never been particularly friendly toward the Slytherins."

"I intimately know my weaknesses, Minerva. My limitless ambition is under control, but if I was friendly with the Slytherins, I could easily lose my self control. Slytherins are smart and ruthless manipulators, Minerva, does that remind you of anyone? I never told you that when I was Sorted, I had a choice of three houses. The Sorting Hat was uncertain of where to place me."

"_**What**_?" Minerva questioned. "The Hat is _**never**_ uncertain."

"I was, and what a tough decision it was," the Sorting Hat interrupted. He was sitting in his usual spot, and his cloth 'eyes' peered at Minerva. "He could have easily been in Ravenclaw with his brains, Gryffindor with his bravery and courage, but he could just have easily ended in Slytherin House. He completely lacked the necessary empathy to be in Hufflepuff. It was the toughest decision I have ever made, but I allowed him his rather plaintive request to be placed in Gryffindor to guide me. He has done well in Gryffindor."

"And now, my old friend?" Albus questioned. "Have I at developed any empathy after all these years?"

"You've developed some," the Sorting Hat admitted. "Primarily thanks to Ms. McGonagall. She's also managed to keep your pride sufficiently deflated so I can still fit on your head. It was a very snug fit there for a few years. I worried I'd burst a seam."

"Thank you," Minerva called out her thanks to the Sorting Hat. When dealing with a singing, talking magical relic, it was always a smart idea to keep on their good side. You never know what might cause it at the next Sorting Ceremony to spontaneously break out into an obscene limerick using her name.

"Severus trusts you, Minerva," Albus calmly stated. "Perhaps you help in this matter? I truly have the boy's best interest at heart."

"But what if you're not the father. Schaum's Third Law, after all?" Minerva questioned.

"Schaum's Third Law is not written in stone, Minerva. It's a warning of potential trouble," reminded Albus.

"Damn it, Albus, the boy believes you hate him," protested Minerva. "I saw your anger earlier, don't you deny it."

"Yes, I am angry," admitted the Hogwarts Head Master. "Voldemort deliberately used my face, my hands and my body to systematically torture Severus. If Voldmort modeled his torturers on you, would you be happy?"

"I'd be furious, Albus. But if you want to help Severus, you need to manage your anger better, Albus. He can sense it. I just can't help but think you're being manipulated right now by You Know Who."

"Oh yes, Voldemort is manipulating the situation. He plans that recent events will weaken me considerably. But what choice is there? Refusal to aid Severus will make me a match for Voldemort's treatment of his followers. Severus has been loyal to me, at great pains to himself. Now I have to repay his faithfulness regardless of the personal cost to myself."

* * *

He woke, and for a moment, Severus was confused. Where was he? It was dark, but it was warm. The bed was soft and comfortable, and the sheets smelled fresh. What was he saying? He smelled clean.

"Severus, you're awake," Poppy's voice softly called from the corner of the room. "Let me help you sit."

"I can manage," Severus insisted, as he needed to prove to everyone that he could take care of himself. Any physical weakness would be exploited by Albus as a valid reason why he couldn't keep the little sprogling. It took a few minutes, but with Poppy's help, he was sitting.

"Cold?" Poppy questioned.

He nodded his head, and she produced a gentle warming spell.

"No cheering spells. Don't try to make me happy and clappy through magic," he growled. "They're Class Five spells."

"Severus, this may be a complete surprise, but as a Certified Mediwitch who possessed many decades of experience, the number of which I will refuse to admit to you, I am quite familiar with the various Spell Classes and what is suitable for a pregnant…"

"Witch, not wizard," Severus retorted. "As I'm a rather unique specimen, I'd prefer to err on the side of caution."

"Actually, I've been doing a great deal of reading on this particular spell. Filius has been doing a great deal of research."

"How is he doing? Can he hear yet?" Severus thought it would be polite to ask about the Charms Instructor.

"He still rather deaf, but it takes time to heal ears. He would like to visit you after he's able to hear again, and not before, because he believes the two of you shouting at each other wouldn't promote a healing atmosphere," Poppy quipped. "Though he says that it would probably bring back fond memories for you."

"Good old Filius," Severus barked a dry laugh. "He's a brick."

"He taught me the spell," Poppy admitted. "Filius is willing to do it, but he can't do it until he can properly hear again. Shall I cast it?"

Severus swallowed once, and nodded his head.

"Find out when the child was conceived. Do it as soon as possible," Severus decided. "Do it now."

"Severus? Do you want anyone here with you? Minerva? I know you and Albus are at odds right now, but he has a right to know the results."

"He has the right to the results, but I'd prefer not to have him here during the casting. That's my right. Medical privacy for the baby's incubator…"

"Incubator? Severus! What a term!" Poppy protested.

"I am not the baby's mother. I haven't started developing any woman bits, have I? Last time I looked, I was still a proper male. But as I was saying, medical privacy rights for the incubator override the father's rights. Albus will have to wait for the information. Now do it, Poppy, before I lose my nerve."

The Mediwitch gently stroked his shoulder, and he was ashamed to admit that he was so scared that he accepted the gesture. He needed to be strong, yet he was weaker than the sniveling child had had once been.

"Very well, Severus. Please lie down, so I can start casting the spell. We'll know in about ten minutes when the child was created."

Severus nodded his head, and wished his heart wasn't pounding hard enough to explode out of his chest.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer # 1 - not my characters.

Disclaimer #2 - mpreg, non con, unhappy stuff, angst fest!

A/N - thanks to Excessively Perky for her helpful comments.

* * *

Poppy cast the paternity spell, and after a long, painful wait, she quietly announced, "Christmas night at roughly 11:30pm." 

He nodded his head once, and he tightly closed his eyes. It was the confirmation of what he had both feared and perversely craved.

_I now possess a part of Albus that will always only be mine. _

"Albus?" Poppy gently questioned.

He nodded once, unwilling to say more. Severus fully expected a very jolly Poppy to cheerily suggest letting the not so happy father immediately know, but instead she gently rubbed his back. Rubbing his back was a kindness, or so she thought, a way of silently offering him comfort, but all he wanted was to flee from her touch.

_**Marked by the Phoenix, soiled by the Dark Lord, I can no longer tolerate to be touched.  
**_  
"You need some time alone to digest this latest news. I'll make sure you're not disturbed by anyone, _**especially**_ Albus, for the next few hours. Do you want a Class One Calming Draught?"

Again, he mutely nodded his head once, and Severus quickly drank the potion she offered. Poppy had followed his suggestion on how to improve the flavor, as he could detect the faintest tang of peppermint. It helped settle his rebellious stomach, and perhaps he might be able to keep his highly anticipated feast of broth down.

How the hell could the sprogling actually grow to a proper size if he didn't stop vomiting?

"Minerva can come in," he softly informed Poppy, his voice barely more than a whisper. "No one else… especially _**him**_."

"Very well," Poppy agreed.

Calmness descended on him like a blanket, and soon he found himself trapped in a memory.

_Quietly, Severus rolled toward the side of the bed, not wanting to leave Albus' bed, but knowing that he wasn't strong enough to face the normal Morning After reaction. The disdainful yet puzzled look upon his lover's face as his… no… never his… Albus strained to remember if he had actually willingly bedded the Slytherin would utterly break Severus' heart. No, it would be best for him to hurry back to his room, perhaps take the next few days off as a Holiday, and give Albus space. Yes, returning back to Hogwarts after the New Years would be a good idea. Perhaps, if Severus was lucky, Albus would be willing to pretend that it had never happened._

_But Severus would remember tonight, and treasure it._

_He was quite adept at leaving his lover's bed in the middle of the night. If he moved just so, and nonverbally cast a few spells, the mattress wouldn't shift beneath his weight and his lover would never wake. He was casting the first spell when he was interrupted._

_"You're going so soon?" Albus gently questioned. "Don't go just yet, for the night is cold, Severus, and my bed is warm. Stay with me, Severus."_

_He should have left then, but Albus reached for his hand, and pulled him back into the bed. Strangely powerless to refuse Albus, Severus found himself back in Albus' bed. Albus was lying next to him and Albus' warm hand was gently caressing Seveus' face._

_"It must not have been very good for you if you're sneaking out in the middle of the night. I'm so sorry, Severus."_

_"No, no," his tongue tripped and twisted upon itself, causing him to stutter like the lovelorn fool he was. "You were… __**brilliant**__… utterly, utterly **brilliant**..."_

_"Brilliant?" Albus quirked an odd smile. "Brilliant, and yet you were sneaking out… Oh."_

_Albus' voice paused, and his smile faded._

_"Afraid to face my possible reaction in the morning, Severus?" Albus gently asked. "Don't worry; I'm not ashamed of what we did tonight."_

_There was no hiding his thoughts from Albus, and Severus began to tremble. What if Albus found out?_

_"Shh… You're shivering from the cold, Severus. Roll on your side, Severus."_

_He did so, and he felt Albus position himself behind him. They were nestled together like two spoons, and Albus entwined his fingers with Severus's cold fingers. To Severus' stunned surprise, Albus brought their hands to his lips, and Albus gently kissed each of Severus' fingers._

_"There, they're warmer now," Albus teased. "The night is still young, barely 11:30. Perhaps, you shouldn't be in such a rush to leave. Who knows what might develop later on?"_

_"I promise that next time it will be better for you," Severus whispered, unsuccessful in hiding his deep shame. _

_"Severus, stop worrying so much about my enjoyment. Did I not tell you that your pleasure is paramount to me?"_

_They kissed then, and Severus tried to contain his happiness._

_He should have known that Albus would instinctively realized how much Severus wanted tonight, and how Albus would make it perfect for him. He loved Albus but a lifetime of bad experiences made Severus too apprehensive to actually trust Albus. Oh Merlin, he should have trusted Albus._

_He needed to stop letting his fear of rejection control him. Be bold, be Gryffindor for once, he savagely chastised himself._

_And so when Severus believed that Albus was asleep, Severus hesitantly touched his lover's face, ran his fingers through his beard, and then whispered two words that he would never have dared to say out loud._

…_love you…_

_For he __**would**_

…_for he __**did**_

…_for he __**had**_

_Albus' eyes opened, merely shamming that he was sleeping and instead of their usual sky blue eyes, they were as dark blue as the ocean in winter, cold and austere. __**  
**__  
Frightened, he fled from Albus' bed then, and Albus prevented him leaving his bedchamber. _

_Then Albus said those four words that caused Severus' world to shatter. _

_**This was a mistake.  
**__  
_He started shaking then, quite glad no one was there to see Snivellus revert back to form. The walls of the isolation chambers were closing in on him. With the paternity of his child revealed, there was no escape; he'd be forced to deal with Albus now.

To his surprise, he felt Minerva's comforting arms embrace him. She held him tightly, uncaring that he was soiled and damaged.

"It's Albus' child, isn't it?" She whispered. "Let it out, lad. I'm here for you. I'm here for you."

When his trembling had stopped, Minerva moved so that she was sitting on the bed next to him. She had her right arm around him, and she had carefully positioned the stump of his left arm so it was resting on her shoulder. She had actually _**touched**_ his ruined left arm, acting as though the stump was nothing out of the ordinary.

"I'm sinking, Minerva. There's nothing for me to grasp to stop me from drowning," Severus's voice was quite low when he admitted that. "He'll take this to the Wizengamot. What if he threatens to send me back to Azkaban unless I do exactly what he wants? I can't go back there, Minerva. I _**can't**_. I barely survived the experience."

"Albus promised that he wouldn't inflict the Wizengamot on you," Minerva reminded him. "He spoke to me, and he is willing to abide by your wishes. Albus wants nothing more than to support you during this."

"I can't trust anything he promises me, Minerva. For Albus, Gryffindor priorities will always take precedence over the desires of a Slytherin."

"Severus," Minerva whispered. "I know you truly believe that because of your experience in the Shrieking Shack. It was tough, unpleasant decision for both of us, and I willingly admit that we failed you. Yes, Sirius Black deserved to be expelled, but we couldn't expel him without letting the Board of Governors know that Remus was a werewolf. They would have **_executed _**Remus for attacking you. Remus didn't deserve to die because of Sirius Black being a complete arse. Will you ever be able to forgive me for being fallible?"

"It's water under the bridge, Minerva. But I'm _**Slytherin**_. He'll hate the child because she has Slytherin blood in her veins. Albus adores his Gryffindors, they can do no wrong. Look how he lets that Golden Trio merrily romp through the rules and regulations of this school. If they were Slytherin, they'd be expelled."

He turned away from her and then he spoke.

"Minerva, did you make your decision about being Godmother to the sprogling?" Severus' voice cracked, and his dark eyes were agitated when he finally looked upon her once more. "It's very important to me, Minerva. You'll be able to keep an eye on her, ensure that Albus hides his dislike for all Slytherins from her. She's an innocent in this, and she needs to be protected. It's not easy being a child unwanted by your father, when there is no bond but hate between your parents."

Minerva was far too empathetic, as the witch knew that he was talking from personal experience.

"Albus doesn't hate you," Minerva quietly stated. "He does cares for you."

"You're the only one strong enough to stand up to Albus. If you're Godmother, you can soften the affects of his rampant anti-Slytherin bias on the sprogling."

"Yes, I'd be honored to be Godmother," Minerva easily agreed. "I will love your wee sprogling as if she were my own."

Severus nodded his head, and he grasped Minera's hand with his right hand.

"I don't have a great deal of money, Minerva. Most of my salary goes for my mother's care, but I think I can give you enough. It will be difficult to do so, as I'm not collecting a salary, but I believe that I can sell some of my potions books. Some of them are rare first editions, and I foolishly spent too much on them." He leaned toward her in a conspiratorially fashion, and whispered, "I'll have to put some aside for my mother's care, but by far, most of the money will go to you. Don't let _**anyone**_ know about the money; else they'll take a lien on it for my mother's care."

"You're giving me a stipend, Severus? You're selling your potion books? Why are you worrying about money? Albus will ensure that you're set up properly. You won't have to be concerned about money, Severus."

"It's highly unlikely that I will live to see her take her first breath. Whatever happens to me, you're to inform Poppy that my wishes are that the baby takes priority. Hopefully, I can keep the two of us alive until she's viable."

"Severus," Minerva weakly protested. "Don't talk like this."

"Don't let Albus say otherwise, Minerva. She comes first, and as her Godmother, you will keep her from harm. Now, regarding the stipend, with it, you're to buy her a present on her birthday and Christmas from me every year until the money runs out. Perhaps, you could purchase her student wand for me? If she's talented, that is. It's very important to me, Minerva that you agree to this request."

"I think you should buy your own presents for your daughter," Minerva chastised; deliberately refusing to understand the reason why she would be the one buying the gifts.

Merlin's bloody scrote, Minerva's fortitude was such a source of comfort to him. It was hard to be fearful and maudlin when she was nearby. He was, but he would be in the fetal position, sobbing, if she wasn't here to give him The Minerva Look. That Look put metal in his backbone and caused his unsettled mind to calm, allowing him to plan for the future.

"Buy her something for me, something exceptional. A child deserves a special gift for Christmas, Minerva. I never got much for Christmas, but what little I did, I prized. When you give my presents to her, you will assure her that I loved her. Tell her that I made many mistakes in my life but that she wasn't one of them. Now, Minerva, will you cast the binding? I want it done as soon as possible."

"Did you discuss this with Albus?" The witch carefully asked. Severus' nerves were strained, and she didn't want to sound accusatory. "Did he agree that I could be Godmother? Doesn't he wish to be here for the bonding?"

Severus' dark eyes rapidly blinked and he shook his head.

"Severus, listen to me. I care about you deeply," Minerva admitted that carefully. "I would never lead you astray with bad advice. But please trust me when I tell you that you need to talk to Albus about these unilateral decisions you're making. You've been deeply traumatized, Severus, and I worry that your current decisions are more panicked reactions than deliberate action."

He said not a word, and she felt him withdrawing into himself.

"I love you," Minerva whispered in his ear. "You probably don't believe me, but I do want the best for you. I know how Albus is and I can certainly understand the basis of your fear of him. Severus, if you continue to make decisions without even discussing them with Albus, he'll be damn near impossible, and he will put his foot down. Do you really want to go through the next seven or so months with him hovering over you? Let me predict what he'll do if you continue on your current course.""

Gently, she brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. Strange, how Poppy's touch frightened him, yet Minerva's gentle touch was a source of comfort.

"First of all, he'll magically ensure that your confinement will be at Hogwarts, as he will trust no one but Poppy to look after you. Spinners End? I'm surprised he didn't stroke on the spot. Yes, I understand you thought it would be best for all if Albus wouldn't have to deal with you and your burgeoning belly, but there would be no medical care there and absolutely no way of ensuring that you're safe from the You Know Who's forces! We nearly killed three mages to free you; do you think Albus would let you skip to Spinners End? Do you truly believe that Filius and I would just wave a merry goodbye as you ran away from Hogwarts? No, Albus will ensure that you won't be able to leave Hogwarts for any reason until you have the baby."

"Next thing he'll do is order the House Elves to make sure you eat, as you're looking rather thin. That means you'll have a literal army of zealous House Elves wanting to stuff you full of breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, brunch, tiffin, lunch, tea, dinner, supper, dessert and a late night snack. Have you ever dealt with a House Elf determined to make sure you eat? Can you handle seven months of eleven meals a day?"

The Slytherin turned green, and Minerva gently touched his flat stomach.

"You'll have a proper belly then. The nausea should soon pass, or so I've been told, and you should be able to put on the weight you've lost. Thirdly, he'll install you in his quarters so he can keep a personal eye on you. I'm surprised he had hasn't started casting an addition to his quarters. I believe your personal belongings have already been moved there."

"Fourthly, I predict that he'll bond you, with or without your consent, so that he'll be able to support the two of you magically during this. Do you feel any special affinity with him? I don't remember much of what happened when we Transported you to Hogwarts, but I know you were very close to death. He may have laid the foundation for the bond then, to give you enough energy to heal."

He struggled to protest, to tell Minerva that Albus' bonding him would only succeed in weakening the mage, that it was part of the Dark Lord's plan, and the Dark Lord's compulsion managed to still his tongue.

"If I talk to him, all this will happen anyway," Severus finally managed to say after considerable effort.

"Yes, but the leash won't be as tight. Explain your concerns to him, and he might surprise you. Eleven meals a day is a bit much…" Minerva dryly quipped. "Perhaps, Albus will insist on only seven, plus a late night snack."

"Perhaps Horace will be kind enough to lend me a dress robe," Severus sniped.

"Instead of Albus incarcerating you in Hogwarts for the length of your confinement, you offer to only leave the Hogwarts ground if you're escorted by me." Minerva ignored his comment, but her eyes twinkled in amusement.

"Yes, I'll definitely want to waddle around Hogsemeade and Diagon Alley." Severus snapped. "I can be the cautionary whale warning young wizards not to be tempted by the Dark Side. This could happen to you, if you decide to switch sides."

Minerva laughed then, and she nodded her head in approval.

"Yes, that's my Severus!"

The witch was utterly barmy!

"Your Severus will not willingly be the subject of ridicule. I have experienced the joys of that enough first hand, and I have no desire to waddle through Diagon Alley solely for the amusement of every mage in London. Do you want me to strip in Knockturn while I'm at it?"

"Glamours, boy. I can actually do other spells besides Transfiguations, Severus. Most importantly, Filius is working on solutions for several of your pressing issues. A permanent Glamour charm to hide your condition, as I'm sure you don't want it common knowledge around Hogwarts. Most importantly, Filius is attempting to figure out how to give you the use of a wand."

"I have no magic, Minerva. All of it is being consumed by the sprogling," Severus reminded her.

"Filius has an idea… of a magical reservoir of sorts… what is that Muggle term?" Minerva paused, and Severus remembered with a surprise that Min was a Pure Blood. She displayed none of the subconscious Blood superiority that he instinctively credited to Pure Bloods. "Ah, battery. Good for one big spell, possibly two. Mainly for defense, you understand, but surely no one would think your magic is…"

"Buggered up," he inserted.

Minerva laughed and hugged him. Her quick movement caused him to instinctively tense, and she gently extricated herself.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked before I did that," she apologized. "Severus, you truly need to talk to Albus, and do it soon."

"Will you be there?" Severus softly questioned.

"I'd like to see you try to not have me there. I have to find out if I'm the Godmother!" Minerva retorted. "Seriously, Severus, don't sell your potion books just yet. You can leave them for me, so if something happens…. I can sell them…"

"Perhaps… tonight, after dinner, the three of us could discuss…" he paused.

"I'll see if he's feeling well enough to have this discussion. He's not quite himself, yet."

Severus nodded his head, and then he closed his eyes.

"Please tell him this unhappy news, Minerva. I should tell him, but I can not bear the thought of telling him. Inform him that yes, I still want the child."

"Sleep well, Sev," Min whispered. "I'll stay until you're asleep."

* * *

Albus arrived promptly after Severus finished his broth. He was wearing a dull rust colored robe with a matching hat. Minerva noted with unease that Albus still looked rather haggard, but he appeared far spryer then he had that afternoon. 

"Thank you for letting me visit, Severus." Albus looked uncertain and then he hesitantly handed a rather bulky package to Minerva before he sat down in a chair that was located several meters from Severus' bed. "I thought Severus might like this. If you don't like it, Severus, let me know, and I'll exchange it."

Minerva handed the neatly wrapped package to Severus, and Severus whispered his thanks.

"I finally felt well enough to speak to Remus. I gave him a brief overview of the situation; mainly that it was my fault that the castle rattled yesterday afternoon. I informed him that we rescued Severus, and that he has a bit of a recovery ahead of him. He's to tell different versions of that to the teaching staff and to the Order."

"You didn't mention…." Minerva paused, and arched her eyebrow.

"No," Albus firmly stated. "The decision when and where to announce the happy news to family and friends will be chosen by Severus."

Severus was tentative in opening the package, having an obvious problem untying the bow. The package slid across his lap as he tried to unfasten the bow, and Minerva silently whispered a sticking spell.

"You don't have to do that," Severus protested. He glared at both Minerva and Albus, not definitely sure which one had stopped the package's movement, but knowing that it had been at least one of them who had intervened.

"Minerva, how are you feeling?" Albus deliberately refused to argue the point with Severus, and Minerva nodded her head.

"Still tired," she answered. "And you?"

"Been sleeping most of the day away," he admitted. "Filius' hearing is returning, and he expects to be able to teach on Monday. I told him to take the day off, and that I'd cover his classes for him. He is older than I am, and he didn't bounce particularly well."

"I don't remember any of us bouncing very well," Minerva retorted. "In fact, I seem to recollect someone making a rather large purple splat as he hit the wall."

"I doubt someone of Filius' size is physically capable of making a large splat," Albus impishly retorted. "Perhaps you also need your hearing checked."

Minerva and Albus had a lighthearted chinwag, while he struggled to unwrap Albus' present. Whatever it was, it was soft and squishy, but it felt like there was something else wrapped inside it. Why the hell did Albus have to put a bloody bow on it? Just to pointedly remind him that he couldn't use both his hands to open it?

No, he was being a little too thin-skinned. There was a ribbon because Albus always put a bow on his gifts, Severus reminded himself. Albus always put too much thought into wrapping presents, insisting that the wrapping paper and the bows were perfectly color coordinated.

He tore the paper, and he hissed his annoyance. Normally, he always carefully unwrapped Albus' gifts to show his appreciation, but his nerves were really quite shot. There was something silky and green underneath the paper, and he finally gave up all pretenses at carefully opening the package. Instead, he recklessly ripped the wrapping paper.

It was a silk green dressing grown, and when he held it up to look at it, something fell to the floor with a soft thud. Minerva picked the item off the floor and handed it to him. He put the robe down, and Severus examined the book. It was a leather bound book, and his hand began shaking when he realized WHAT book it was.

A first edition of Phineas St. Clare's "_Guide to Advanced Potions for the Clever Practitioner_". He had only been looking for a copy of his own for only a dozen or so years. Severus had certainly never dared hope for a first edition. Merlin's beard, he only guess how dear a pristine first edition was.

The silk robe was in the Emerald Green of the Slytherin House, and intricately embroidered in silver. The sleeves been tailored specifically for his precise needs, as they were wide enough so his bandaged stump could easily slide through the arm hole. A great many small niceties on a rush job, which meant that it had cost a very pretty knut.

"I can't take this," Severus softly protested. He pushed the book and the robe toward Minerva. "It's too expensive a gift for me. I don't deserve it."

"I thought you were looking for a copy," Albus gently questioned. "You had mentioned it several years ago, and I managed to track it down. It's a Valentine's Day gift, Severus, don't worry about the price. This is the book that you wanted, correct?"

"Yes…" he slowly confessed.

"Wonderful! You'll have something to read while you're recuperating. Try on the robe; I wasn't quite sure about your size as you've lost some weight, so it was necessary to guess."

Severus glanced at Minerva, and Minerva nodded her head quickly. _**Try it on**_, she mouthed.

"Will you help me?" Severus whispered.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Would you mind not looking?" Severus quickly asked Albus. "I have to take off my old one…"

"And you would quite prefer if I don't gawk. That's quite understandable, so I'll close my eyes. Let me know when I can open them again, as if I keep them closed for too long, I might fall asleep." Albus easily agreed. "There should be socks also. Warm, black socks."

It took far too long to get him out of the old robe, and into the new one. As it was, he was quite winded by the time he was finished changing. Minerva was almost physically supporting him, as she helped him back into the bed. And yes, she even put the socks on his feet.

The robe was warm, and soft to touch. It felt almost as if Albus' arms were around him, protecting him and the sprogling. His right hand kept compulsively caressing the fabric while his mind was unable to understand why Albus had given him such a gift.

"I specifically asked that they cut the sleeves a little large. I didn't want the left sleeve to be too tight," Albus explained. His eyes were still tightly shut.

"You can open your eyes now, Albus," Minerva stated when it became obvious to her that Severus was planning on keeping Albus' eyes closed for quite a while longer.

Albus opened his eyes, and he approvingly nodded his head.

"It should be warm," Albus explained. "You feel the cold so easily that I thought you might like it."

Albus paused and then looked at Minerva. In response, the witch gave both men a bright cheery smile.

"It's a lovely color, Severus. You should wear your house colors more often," she announced.

The three of them said nothing for the longest time, and then Severus broke the silence.

"You don't have to try so hard, Albus." His voice was shaky as he protested Albus' generosity.

"Severus," Albus raised his hand in protest. "I behaved badly earlier. Will you allow me the chance to try acting properly this time?"

"You don't need to buy me, Albus." Severus whispered. "I am well aware that I'm entirely dependent on your willingness to tolerate this impossible situation. I have no job; I can not financially support myself until I'm able to work once more. I can't leave Hogwarts because the Dark Lord supporters will no doubt find me easy pickings. Give me your conditions, Albus. Put your leash on me, and I will be your loyal dog."

Albus glanced at Minerva, who shook her head.

"Severus has asked me to be Godmother to the child before Poppy determined that you were the father. Severus would still like me to be Godmother, but naturally, he thought you'd want your input."

"I'd be delighted to have you be Godmother, Minerva," Albus easily answered. "Do you have anyone in mind for the role of Godfather, Severus?"

"I'd thought it would be quite fitting to ask the Dark Lord to be Godfather," Severus retorted.

He barked a dry laugh. It was a horrible laugh, full of self hate and the stunned look of bewildered concern on Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore's face made Severus laugh even harder.

"Will you be so kind to ask him next time you two chat?" Severus questioned. "Perhaps, if you ask, Potter the Golden Boy will be kind enough to give him the message."

He starting laughing again and Minerva's lips thinned in concern.

"Maybe at the christening, we could request Filius put a Phoenix tattoo on her right arm, and the Dark Lord will put a Dark Mark on her left." He barely managed to gasp that request out between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

It wasn't funny, but yet, he couldn't stop laughing.

"Get Poppy, Minerva. Now," Albus softly ordered. He moved closer to Severus, who shrank away from him.

"I don't believe I should leave you two alone," Minerva softly protested.

"Go, Minerva. Go now," ordered Albus.

"Yes, Minerva, be a good little Gryffindor. Do everything Albus wants. Do it without question, no matter what the personal cost. Never admit your secret longing that one day he actually might care for you. When I'm dead, Albus will notice you then. He will see you as someone that can solve his problem of having to deal with a motherless Slytherin whelp. Perhaps in time, Minerva, he will finally see you as a woman, rather than a brother-in-arms."

"ENOUGH!" Albus roared. "You will not denigrate Minerva while I am here. I will not tolerate such behavior from you."

Albus' anger frightened him, and Severus began to tremble. What had he been thinking? To disparage Minerva like that?

"Minerva? Minerva? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Severus pleaded. "Please don't be angry with me. Please… tell Albus that you forgive me."

Minerva said not a word; instead, she was resting her face in her hands, refusing to answer him.

"Minerva? Please?" Severus' voice was shaky as he beseeched the witch to forgive him. "Please, Minerva, I don't know why I said that. I'm so sorry, please, please. Don't be angry with me. You **_know _**how I am. Albus, please tell Minerva how horrible I am. Remind her that I'm a worthless piece of humanity, that I smell like the fetid sewer in which my mother spawned me. Tell her, Albus. Perhaps, she'll forgive me my innate limitations."

"I will say nothing like that, Severus," Albus softly whispered. "For that is not the truth."

"But you told me that, over and over. Every night… I tried to clean myself…attempted to make myself presentable for you, but you always told me that I smelled of the gutter. But you liked my mouth well enough, as I never spilled a drop, even when I feared that I'd choke and gag."

"Severus…that wasn't me," Dumbledore quietly protested in a very sick sounding tone.

"You liked my soft mouth though," Severus' voice was a sickening mixture of fear and a perverted sense of pride, and his dark eyes were glassy. "You kept forcing your cock between my lips, as you simply couldn't get enough of my talented tongue and my lips. You didn't have to keep ramming it in my mouth, Albus. I would have willingly done it… I had wanted so badly… for so long to taste you."

"I never did that to you." Albus' voice was almost inaudible.

"I thought… you'd taste of sherbet lemons," Severus whispered. "I thought you'd be sweet… but your taste was just as foul as everyone else I've ever swallowed."

Minerva placed her hand on Severus' forehead. Her eyes were full of tears, and she gently stroked his long hair.

"You need to rest, Severus. You're quite feverish, and Poppy will need to examine you," the witch gently informed him.

"Do you forgive your Severus?" The Slytherin pleaded. "Please?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Severus. You've been badly hurt, and you need to heal. This meeting was a horrible idea as it was too soon and you're simply not strong enough. Let me get Poppy," Minerva requested.

He reached for her with his right hand. Grasping her hand with all the strength he possessed, he refused to let her leave his beside.

"Don't leave me with him, please," Severus begged. "He's angry and he'll hurt me."

"Albus isn't angry," Minerva insisted. She turned toward Albus and motioned for him to chime in an agreement.

Albus' blue eyes were blazing, and he was furious.

"Oh, Minerva, I am infuriated right now. Not at Severus, you understand, but at Tom. Tom will pay for this, if it's the last thing I ever do."


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer # 1 - not mine. Not at all. If they were mine, well, DH would have ended differently, and I'd be drinking cold drinks on a warm beach while cabana boys fanned me with ostrich fans.  
Disclaimer # 2 - Mpreg. Noncon.

* * *

Poppy swooped into the room like an avenging angel; tsk'd her disapproval at the disruption, and fiercely glared at both Albus and Minerva. Her stern, milk curdling expression quickly mellowed into gentle compassion when she glanced towards her patient, Severus. It was quite obvious who the Mediwitch firmly blamed for creating the ruckus. 

"Severus, how are you feeling?" The Medwitch warmly asked. "You look quite pale. Do you need a potion?"

"Just tired, Poppy. May I have my sleeping draught?" Severus politely responded, as everyone knew not to get snippy with the Mediwitch for fear of having their Potions delayed. "It's early, I know. But I'm really quite weary."

"Actually, Poppy, his left arm is causing him severe pain," Albus inserted into the conversation. His tone was curt, and he was massaging his left arm in the very same area where Severus' arm ended. "It runs up and down the arm, down to the very tips of his fingers…"

"Don't listen to him, I have no fingers on my left hand," Severus softly protested. He then attempted an unsuccessful jest to distract everyone from Albus' surprising observation. "I appear to have misplaced them."

"Then it runs up his arm, to his shoulder, to his neck. It's a sharp, slicing pain." Albus quietly explained.

"Is that true, Severus?" Poppy questioned. "Why don't you want a pain potion?"

Snape said not a word, and Albus finally answered Poppy.

"The sleeping draught doesn't really affect the pain, but it puts him into a deep sleep, where he can't dream. His sleep isn't very restorative, as he still has the pain. The pain potion causes him to doze and he dreams then…" Albus paused before he slowly admitted. "His dreams are full of a familiar face…much like his waking hours…"

"How do you know this?" Poppy questioned.

Albus' face was ashen, and he swallowed once.

"My God, Severus… I'm surprised that you don't scream when you see me. Severus, I've never bothered to completely hide my inclinations, but I would_**never**_ do that to a student. _**Never**_."

Severus turned his face to the wall of the room, and refused to speak. He was holding himself rigid, but Minerva noticed that the Slytherin was shaking slightly.

"I need to leave the room," Albus explained in a very soft voice. "Minerva, stay, but I must leave for Severus' sake. Severus, we do need to talk, but not now, as you're too raw. I truly am sorry for inflicting more pain on you, Severus."

Minerva hesitantly sat on the bed next to Severus. She covered him with the various warm blankets, and then she put the Potions book on the chest of drawers next to his bed.

"Don't go, Albus," softly whispered Severus. "I have to learn to deal with you. If we continually attempt to avoid one another, my fear will become… overwhelming. I must learn to deal with you, much like I must adapt to my life with only one hand."

"Look at me, and tell me if you truly wish me to stay," Albus softly requested. "I'll only stay if you assure me of that."

It took a heroic effort, but Severus managed to look at Albus and the Slytherin nodded his head once. His face was paler than its normal, and he was biting his lip, but he did nod his head.

"Severus? Is what Albus said true?" Poppy's voice was nonjudgmental. "You're still having pain?"

Severus nodded his head once more, while he continued to pleadingly stare at Albus. Something unspoken passed between the two men, and Albus shook his head slightly.

"Please?" Severus mouthed.

"No," whispered Albus. "If you insist on running, I _**will**_ find you."

"Poppy? Do you have any idea what might be causing the pain?" Minerva loudly questioned, in a noticeable attempt at distracting and defusing the tense situation between Albus and Severus. It was bad enough she needed Hooch's Quidditch Referee whistle to handle the verbal discussions between the two men, now they were deciding to add a Legilimency conversation? She wasn't a Legilimentist, how could she ensure that they were behaving when the two boys were busy _**thinking**_their conversations? It was enough to make any self-respecting witch go absolutely barmy.

"Might be a bone fragment, could be nerve damage, or else it could be an infection. I'll need to undo the dressing on Severus' arm, and poke around a bit," Poppy attempted to keep her voice cheery, but Severus hissed. It was obvious that the Slytherin was not looking forward to Poppy's poking, not one single bit.

Poppy then looked at Minerva, and nervously smiled. Minerva's heart dropped to her feet, as she _**knew**_ that look from years of personal experience. Poppy was uncertain about the possible reaction to her next statement, and she was looking for support from her.

"Severus," Poppy's voice was soothing. "I don't want you to get upset, but I want to call in a consult. I believe that the current situation demands that I acquire additional help to assist in your care. "

"With whom?" Severus rasped. He then gasped from his pain, and then exhaled slowly. "Damn, damn, damn…"

"Horace Slughorn," Poppy admitted that with all the enthusiasm of chaser facing the possibility of a naked co-ed Quidditch Match in the middle of a January blizzard.

That bombshell had both expected and unexpected affects. Severus, naturally, refused. Instead of refusing Poppy directly, Severus turned to Minerva for support.

"No, no, no, no. Minerva. _**MINERVA**_," Severus pleaded. "Don't let them do it."

Albus pondered the suggestion for a bit, and then nodded his head in agreement.

"There is a dire need for a Potion Master that isn't as intimately involved with the situation as Severus and I are," Dumbledore admitted, reminding Minerva that Dumbledore was also quite good with potions, and could bubble a cauldron or three. "Horace is our best option."

"Listen to me," Poppy's calm voice cut through Severus' increasingly desperate entreaty for Minerva's intervention. "Horace has been here every hour on the hour, asking for information. It seems the news of your return has made its way to the Slytherin House, and he desires a conference with you to find out what he should tell them. Meanwhile, if having Horance here regularly isn't enough, I have Slytherin students coming up with the most extraordinary ailments so they can stay in the Infirmary. The question isn't whether or not the fact that Severus is in the infirmary will become common knowledge, but only a matter of when!"

"The Slytherin students' parents are Death Eaters, no doubt," Severus hissed. "Want to see the magicless, sprogged up Severus Snape."

"Or they could actually care about you," Poppy's rejoinder was crisp. "Merlin only knows why."

Minerva winced at the normally pleasant Poppy's rather caustic comment, but apparently the mediwitch's scathing tone was the correct way to handle the situation, as Severus chuckled.

"Slytherins have ties that no other house can match," the former Slytherin Head proudly admitted. "Not even Hufflepuffs can match our bonds."

"That is the reason why I desire to bring Horace in on consult. I'm sure if … Minerva explains the situation, and puts the fear of Albus into Horace, he'll keep his mouth shut. Was Albus correct? You're having nightmares when you take the pain potion?" Poppy questioned, keeping her voice calm and professional.

Slowly, Severus nodded his head once.

"Is there something I can add to the pain potion?" Poppy asked. "You should have told me that you need me to modify the potion. I'm not at your level, Severus, but I can adapt potions as necessary."

The patient began making suggestions but Albus… damnable Albus interrupted.

"I must protest as the father of the child, Poppy. I do not want you making decisions, based completely on Severus' input, which will affect the health of your two patients." Albus firmly stated.

"I know my way around a cauldron," Severus insisted, his voice strained. "I may not have my arm, I may not have my magic, but I still possess my considerable skills and my mind. I can certainly make suggestions to Poppy on what ingredients might prove beneficial in my care."

"When did you last sleep more than two hours without the use of a potion, Severus? Did you not just a few minutes ago, in this very room, in front of Minerva no less, get confused and accuse me of forcing you to perform oral sex on me?" Albus' voice was dangerously soft, and sincere. "In case you have forgotten, you boasted of your technique. I will unequivocally state before Minerva and Poppy that I do not possess first hand experience of your alleged expertise in that subject matter. I _**will**_ admit to one and to all that I did perform fellatio on you…and that you seemed quite stunned and rather delighted with my proficiency."

Instinctively, Severus grabbed Minerva's hand. His dark eyes were terror-stricken and his voice was full of panic, "He'll take it from me. He'll tell the Wizengamot that I'm utterly barmy. They'll put me in St. Mungo's where I'll be bunkmates with Lockehart! Minerva… Minerva… He doesn't want the sprogling, he'd prefer if he didn't have to deal with the two of us. I saw it in his mind, Minerva. Ask him, _**ask him**_!"

"Severus needs twelve hours of uninterrupted, restorative sleep, Poppy." Albus insisted, flatly refusing to confirm or deny Severus' accusations. "Perhaps then his mind will be made easier… if he could actually get some rest. Severus, please, let me take the pain away and Poppy can give you a sleeping potion. You'll be able to sleep then. It'll be good for you and the child."

Albus' voice radiated sincerity, and Severus nervously looked at Poppy and Minerva for confirmation.

"I'll do the spell," Minerva offered, which earned her a rare smile of gratitude from the dark haired Slytherin.

"It's rather complex, and it will take time for me to teach you, Minerva. Time that will be a needless period of agony and nightmares for Severus.," Albus protested in a very stern tone.

"I'm a fast learner," insisted Minerva, who was still determined to fight for Severus, even though she knew that Albus would prove intractable on this issue.

"Poppy, unwrap his arm, I'll need to put my hands on it," Albus explained. "Severus? The sooner I can cast the spell, the quicker I'll leave your room."

Severus, admitted his defeat by closing his head and nodding his acceptance.

* * *

Albus sat next to Severus' bed, and with gentle fingers, he probed what remained of Severus' left arm, trying to focus on most painful location as the epicenter for his casting. He noticed, but failed to comment, that Severus' hand was gripping Minerva's hand in what could only be a most painful fashion. Poppy dosed Severus and soon, the Slytherin was lightly dozing. 

"Severus, you had such deft hands," Albus sadly whispered, as he continued to examine the wreckage of Severus' left arm.

Deliberately, he cradled Severus' stump with his left hand, and he picked up his wand.

"Let us begin," he insisted.

The spell was a simple one, and one Minerva could have easily picked up in a matter of moments, but the difficulty lay in the fact that it was Blood Bond Magic. He had mixed his blood with Severus' blood and he had laid the foundation of the bond in order to save Severus' life, so only he would be able to relieve Severus of his pain. Deliberately shamming his audience, he hummed a Muggle lullaby and he waved his wand in some rather intricate patterns. They were actual spells, mainly incantations for peace of mind, strengthening one's sanity and solace for the soul, but what he was doing next was actually the important part of the spell.

"Capio vestri poena volutarie addo vos solor," he entoned, and then he gently touched the tip of his wand to Severus' stump. _I take your pain willingly to give you solace._

Merlin's beard, he wasn't expecting it to hurt this much. But he bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out, and before long the transfer of pain was completed. The agony was all his to endure for now, but the pain mattered not at all to him, as Severus was deeply asleep, finally free of the excruciating pain.

"How long do you think he'll sleep?" He softly questioned.

"Twelve hours or so," Poppy guestimated in her professional opinion. "We can talk freely now, as he's so deeply asleep that we won't disturb him."

"Very well, the idea of using Horace is a wonderful idea, and I authorize you to contact Horace. I believe that the three of us can easily agree that Severus is not completely rational at the moment. Therefore, I am empowered to make decisions for his medical care." Albus stated.

Minerva growled her disapproval, and Albus faced her.

"He was_** serious**_ about having Voldemort as Godfather. Severus accused me of _**Compelling**_ fellatio, Minerva. How long were we lovers? How long before…" Albus paused, and his cheeks were flushed.

"You were rather shy about it," Minerva easily admitted, perhaps enjoying a wee too much the fact that Albus was obviously mortified. Albus was rather reserved, almost prudish, when it came to sex, while Min was willing to admit to all but a select few that she was a bit of hedonist. "I remember that I had to keep offering, as you were too focused on my enjoyment. I know you didn't force the lad, Albus."

Poppy meanwhile was attempting to turn herself invisible so neither Albus or Minerva would remember that she overheard _**that**_ particular part of their conservation.

"Yes, we have to accept the fact that not only his emotional judgment is cloudy, but his professional judgment might be suspect. Not that he would willingly harm himself or the child, but it's best to err on the side of caution. Ask him his opinion, by all means, but double check his recommendations with Horace." Albus firmly stated, and then he reached over to the sleeping Severus, and gently traced a glyph on Severus' forehead. That done, he poured some of his energy into the casting, and he was rewarded with a flaring of green light that quickly faded.

"What did you just do?" Minerva questioned. "I'm not familiar with that particular casting."

"I blessed him," Albus simply stated. "My blessings won't do much, I know, but I offered it willingly."

"I recognized the blessing, but I was watching your face when you cast that free from pain spell for Severus. You turned whiter than a ghost, and you're not moving your left arm at all. Did you?" Minerva's voice turned emotional. "You _**did**_. You took his pain onto yourself, Albus."

Albus refused to confirm or deny her accusation, and Poppy shook her head in disbelief.

"He should be pain free for the next twenty four hours, Poppy. Get Horace involved as we need his specialized skills in order to find the correct combinations of ingredients that will assist Severus. Minerva, you will need to talk to Horace regarding the situation, and I'm sure he'll know why he'll need to keep this close to his vest. Now, ladies, if you don't mind, I really would like to go to my bed and rest for the remainder of today. I'm teaching Filius' classes on Monday, and I need to regain my strength. Poppy, will you be able to still examine Severus' arm while he's sleeping?"

"Yes, I'll be able to poke and prod while he's sleeping." The Mediwitch easily agreed.

It took a few attempts for Albus to stand, and he tried to push Minerva away. But instead, she put his right arm around her shoulder and assisted him in standing. To her surprise, Albus didn't continue to protest while she walked him to the floo , instead he leaned on her. She could barely support him, as he was literally dead weight.

"Call me if you need me, Poppy," Minerva stated.

* * *

Accidentally, she jarred Albus when she put him to bed, and she instantly rewarded for her accidental carelessness with a caustic scream of profanity, both Magic and Muggle, from a rather washed-out Albus. He immediately apologized for his curses, and he then begged her to prop his left arm with a pillow. 

"Can't you take something?" Minerva snapped, her concern warring with her fury over Albus' mulishness.

"No, I'm afraid not." Albus barked a cheerful laugh. "I'm afraid that I could only magically take Severus' pain from him by fully accepting and embracing it. Rather noble of me, don't you agree? Since it is magical, and not physical pain, neither a potion nor charm will help."

Albus hissed in pain as she carefully propped his arm on the pillow, and then he sighed in relief.

"You truly are an angel," Albus whispered. "Thank you. I don't think I would have made it back here without your help."

She pulled a chair up to the side of his bed, and Albus laughed. It was a forced laugh, as though Albus was attempting to hide from her how much pain he was experiencing.

"Get into bed, Minerva. If you're going to rake me over the coals, I'll hope we can kiss and make up," Albus teased. He hissed when her sitting on the edge of the mattress caused it to dip.

"That fire's long dead; besides won't Severus get upset if we start playing Beater and Chaser?" Minerva questioned. "You've _**bonded**_ the boy, Albus. You two are linked now, Albus, which is probably why you two keep setting each other off. You're feeling his emotions, and he's feeling yours."

"I'm not just feeling his emotions, Minerva. I Saw what they did to him." Albus sighed and closed his eyes. "I wish you had confided in me years ago that the boy was desperately fixated on me. It would have explained so much."

"Albus, you have this incredible inability to refuse to see the painfully obvious. Severus has been infatuated with you since he was a first year."

"He was a_**student**_, Minerva!" Albus shrilly protested, his pain causing him to lose his composure. "I'd never promote an inappropriate relationship between myself and a student."

His right hand was compulsively massaging his left arm as though it would give it some relief. Minerva could almost feel sympathy waves of agony radiating in her left arm.

"Albus, you're preaching to the choir," Min softly stated. "You've taken only two former students as lovers, and both of us were well over the age of consent, and a long time past our formative school years. But when Severus was a first year, he wasn't in love with you; he just wanted kindness from you, a parental figure. You always spread your kindness among your Gryffindors, Albus. You never sprinkled your benevolence among the other houses…,"

She interrupted his soft protest, "Well yes… sometimes an exceedingly brilliant Ravenclaw or an exceptional Hufflepuff would be bestowed some benevolence from the Head Master, but never a Slytherin."

"Slytherins remind me too much of my past, Minerva, and how my reckless ambition and my insane desire for more than I deserved destroyed my family. I fear flaming the embers of my ambition if I become too comfortable with the Slytherin students," Albus easily admitted. "I intimately know my weaknesses. If I was an alcoholic, I wouldn't drink. I'm dangerously ambitious, and too comfortable in the idea of using my power to promote the greater good. I need limits, Minerva."

His blue eyes were full of tears, and his voice trembled as he continued. "Are we discussing the Remus incident again? I could not stand bye and let Remus be executed for Sirius' crime. Yes, Sirius reminded me far too much of Gellert. Without the calming influence of Remus and James, who knows what he would have done if I had expelled him? I've known for years that particular incident was a Gordian knot, with no easy, fair solution that would be evenhanded for all involved. But I made the decision that I did because I could not risk another innocent like Ariana. Remus was _**innocent**_. His attack on Severus was not a conscious choice!"

"Deliberate or not, he would have killed Severus if James hadn't intervened," Minerva retorted.

"Ariana _**killed**_ my mother, Minerva. But she had no true comprehensions of her actions due to her illness. Neither did Remus!"

That scrap of information surprised Minerva, as Albus mentioned Ariana, his mentally ill sister on only the rarest of occasions. . But Albus had only described her as a hurt angel; never had he just casually dropped into the conversation Ariana had murdered her mother during a spell of madness.

Merlin's bloody scrote, Seeing Remus as Ariana and Sirius as Gellert, no wonder Albus had made such a momentously bad decision as he had been attempting to rectify his previous mistakes.

Those that don't learn from their mistakes often just end up repeating them, while those that were so fearful of making the same mistake again often times completely cocked up the situation when they were faced with it again. Damn, she could almost feel sorry for Albus, but the ramifications of Sirius Black getting away almost scot-free with attempted murder had helped push Severus to the Death Eaters. No doubt the trauma of realizing that the man on which he was hopelessly fixated, cared not an even a lick for his safety had caused Severus to look for camaraderie elsewhere.

"And instead of protecting an Ariana, you successfully created a Severus," Minerva reminded him.

"I need to tell you something, and I know you will be horrified. You're quite aware that they used polyjuice potion…." Albus paused before he continued. "They drugged Severus and convinced him that he was once again a Hogwarts student. He was in trouble, in risk of expulsion from the school for whatever reason, and he was so desperate to stay in school that he offered to do anything…"

"Oh, Albus," Minerva whispered.

"Severus learned to quickly enjoy being the Head Master's dirty, little Slytherin whore who shared his bed. He needs help, Minerva. You must speak with Horace, bind him to secrecy, and inform him that if he refuses to help, he will deal with me, and I will not be forgiving," Albus snapped.

"Very well, I'll speak to him now," Minerva agreed.

"Then go to bed, Minerva," Albus ordered. "You need to keep healthy."

"But I want an answer to two questions," the witch announced. "Answer me truthfully, Albus. Don't sham me or evade the issue. I want to know the answer."

"What do you want to know?"

"Severus said that you don't want the sprogling. That in fact, you'd prefer if you didn't have to deal with the two of them," Minerva whispered that, and waited for her answer.

Albus looked away from her, and simply answered. "Yes and yes."

"Albus, then why are you pushing Severus so hard? Why don't you let the boy be?" Minerva asked. "I'm not condemning you, I just want to understand."

"What I want and what is morally correct are not always the same. Such as in this case," Albus admitted.

"My second question is, why did you bond the boy?" Minerva questioned. "Yes, he was close to dying, but it wasn't necessary to permanently bond him."

"Repeatedly, you have shamefully reminded me on how often I have failed Severus in the past. I can't fail him again, but don't expect me to giddily delight in the news that I've fathered Severus' child. Now go speak to Horace, Minerva. Let me know tomorrow what he says."

* * *

"Horace, may I speak with you?" Minerva politely questioned. 

The balding Potions Master beamed at her. "Absolutely, my dear. It would be a definite pleasure! Come right into my office!"

Horace Slughorn grandiosely ushered her into his office, and he stopped smiling. No, instead, his face was somber, and Horace had his arms crossed.

"Has the Head Master decided to trust me with the truth with what happened with Severus? Or have you been selected to attempt to sell me a retrofitted Blue Bottle broom as a Nimbus 2003?"


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer #1 – Not my characters.

Disclaimer #2 – AU, Dark Fic, Non con, Mpreg, angst, child abuse (sex/physical)

* * *

"Horace, may I speak with you?" Minerva politely questioned.

The balding Potions Master beamed at her. "Absolutely, my dear. It would be a definite pleasure! Come right into my office!"

Horace Slughorn grandiosely ushered her into his office, and he stopped smiling. No, instead, his face was somber, and Horace had his arms crossed.

"Has the Headmaster decided to trust me with the truth with what happened with Severus? Or have you been selected to attempt to sell me a retrofitted Blue Bottle broom as a Nimbus 2003?"

"You wound me. Horace," Minerva fondly retorted, as she did have warm memories of a few nights spent with Horace. A bon vivant, Horace approached making love with the same gusto as he did eating. He was a gourmet, which meant he savored the experience, and he'd take as many delightful hours as necessary to ensure a wonderful encounter for his partner. Plus, he always ensured that he always left room for afters. "I actually have a Shooting Star that I wish to sell you. With a fresh Cushion charm that's good for one hundred thousand kilometers!"

The Potions Master laughed, and he motioned for her to join him in Flooing to his personal quarters where it was less likely they'd be overheard. They were soon both ensconced in his suite, and he quickly began to act as a proper host. "Care for anything? Tea?"

"No, I'm fine," Minerva insisted quickly, as she sat down in a very comfortable chair. If you didn't watch yourself with Horace, you'd be treated to a High Tea irregardless of the time. As it was, she found herself sipping a very fine wine, and eyeing a small spread that appeared out of nowhere. With all the excitement lately, she hadn't really eaten since… Friday morning? Perhaps a biscuit or two might not be amiss, as Merlin's scrote! It was Saturday _**evening**_? "What have you done to this place? It looks bigger."

"It should be as I used a few Charms to enlarge my quarters. Else I couldn't fit the piano in and I do so love to play," Horace admitted, after he took a long appreciative sip of wine. "Minerva, stop trying to flatter me. I'm vain, I'm foolish, and I'm many, many other things, but I certainly know when a pretty witch is spinning a tall tale. So the question is how much will Dumbledore allow you to tell me?"

Horace's shrewd blue eyes were amused, and Minerva conceded the point.

"Albus has given me leeway to inform you as much as I deem necessary. Horace, Severus was captured by Death Eaters. They Polyjuiced themselves in a literal army of Albuses…"

"Merlin's Beard," Horace swore.

"To make a long story short, Severus was physically, mentally and sexually abused by 'Albus'. They amputated his arm, and it wasn't a clean wound. We're in need of your assistance as a Potion Master as Poppy feels unable to meet the challenge of treating Severus."

"My word, Minerva, what ever you need I will do," Horace insisted. "But why are you coming to me? Is it a magical wound that Madam Pompfrey is unable to heal? Then the boy needs to be in St. Mungo's then, not here."

"Horace, I need to know. Do you have Severus' best interests at heart?" Minerva questioned. "I need you to swear to me that you do, and that what I have told you will never reveal to another soul."

Her green eyes were intense as she peered into Horace's blue eyes. It was so tricky to pin Horace down to anything, as he could weasel his way out of anything, but once he finally gave it, he was good for his word.

"Minerva, how could ask me this? He's a former student of mine, and a fellow Slytherin," Horace protested, smoothly evading her question and therefore avoiding the need to answer

"Because as you have plainly forgotten, it was former students of yours, and fellow Slytherins that did this to him," Minerva snapped. She quickly stood up, and made as if to leave. "I shouldn't have hoped that you'd be willing to help. Go sit on your fence, Horace. I'll throw in the damn Cushion Charm for your fat bloody arse."

"Bloody hell, Min, sit down, sit down, there's no need to make disparaging comments about the impressive size of my rear, as I've spent years cultivating it to its current size. Yes, I promise that this conversation will go to my grave," Horace insisted. "I'll take a Wizard's Oath. The Slytherin House has been in an uproar because of Severus' disappearance. They feel abandoned by Severus."

"Abandoned?" Minerva softly questioned. To her horror, she hadn't noticed the Slytherins acting any different since Severus' disappearance then their norm.

"Yes, Albus' decision to promote the lie that Severus quit over the holidays, without so much as saying goodbye to his Slytherin Students, quite upset them. You may find this hard to believe, but the Slytherins students loved their House Head. Minerva, what would be your house's response if you decided to up and quit over the holidays? Without so much as a word to them? No, the first time they'd hear about it was when they returned to Hogwarts? How would they react? Now, I need to speak to Severus to find out how he wishes the matter to be handled. We need a proper plan. When can I speak to him?"

With a final sip of his wine, Horace began casting, and assorted medicinal potions books zipped from various parts of his quarters and slowly stacked themselves neatly into a pile on the table. With a casual, almost negligent gesture, Horace had them jump into a large bag, which he immediately reduced to a smaller size. He picked them up and put them into his pocket. .

"I'll need to speak to Poppy, naturally, to determine what the issue in question is. Why don't you tell me, Minerva? I'll need to know."

"Swear your wizard's oath, Horace. Swear it now, in front of me," Minerva insisted. "Else I'll Obliviate this conversation."

"Minerva, you know that I like my women feisty, but you're taking a dangerously close step toward domineering," Horace retorted. "But very well then."

He spoke the formal Wizard Oath and then clasped her hand, before adding an impromptu, "And Minerva McGonagall can strike me dead if I reveal this conversation to anyone that she does not wish me to do so. At this moment, I believe I have your permission to freely talk about this matter to Severus, Poppy, Albus and you."

"Filius," Minerva quickly added.

"Very well then. I so swear!"

There was a brief tingling in her hands, as the spell was cast. Then Minerva asked Horace a simple question.

"Have you ever heard of _Paters Gignere Ingeniter?"_

"Bloody hell! Are you saying that Severus is…." For a wonder, Horace Slughorn was speechless.

"Yes," Minerva answered.

"Is there nerve damage to his arm? No wonder you're having problems. Very well, I'm off to speak with Poppy. This will be no doubt a very long conversation so please don't wait for me to return. But feel free to finish the wine, Minerva."

And with that, Horace Slughorn Floo'd to the infirmary, leaving a very bemused Minerva in his wake.

"I've forgotten how forceful Horace can be at times," she admitted with a dry laugh. "When you can get him off his bloody fence."

* * *

_He was in trouble though it wasn't his fault. Truly it wasn't, it was that damnable Potter and Black, who had caught in the hallway and hexed him. They had Befuddled him and then had cast JellyLegs and Glisseo, causing him to slip down the stairs, crashing into Professor McGonagall at a high rate of speed and successfully knocking her off her feet._

_She had ignored his protestations of innocence, and she had dragged him by his ear to the _Headmaster_'s office where it was promptly decided that it was the dirty, evil Slytherin's fault._

_"Expulsion," the _Headmaster_ decided. "An unwarranted attack on a Professor calls for immediate Expulsion."_

_To his utter horror, Severus began sobbing in front of both Professor McGonagall and the _Headmaster_. To be Expelled from Hogwarts? What would his mum say? After they had spent all that money on this clothes and books?_

_"I don't believe it was an unwarranted attack, Professor Dumbledore, as just so much a misdirected spell between three quarreling school boys. I don't believe the boy did it deliberately," McGonagall insisted. "I should have landed on my feet as I'm a cat animagus after all. This incident does not merit Expulsion, perhaps just a detention."_

_"Very well, Professor McGonagall. Mr. Snape, you will apologize to Professor McGonagall and thank her for her leniency."_

_He blubbered his apology, hiccupping and sobbing so hard that McGonagall promptly accepted his apology before he had managed to stammer out more than a few broken, nonsensical words. She quickly left him alone in the _Headmaster_'s office, and the _Headmaster_ sighed._

_"What am I to do with you? I am tired of seeing you in my office for various offenses, and your only excuse for each new transgression is a pathetic whinging that you weren't at fault. Expulsion is truly the only option for chronic miscreants."_

_He was only twelve, and a scared twelve at that, so he began sobbing still harder, promising that he'd be better, and he didn't want to be Expelled from Hogwarts._

_"Perhaps, I can beat your naughtiness out of you," the _Headmaster_ stated softly. "I outlawed corporal punishment when I became _Headmaster_, but you are so very set on misbehaving. You are insistent on being very intransigent, Mr. Snape, so perhaps an exception to my ban on caning might prove productive. Ten lashes, Mr. Snape."_

_"Remove your trousers and pants," the _Headmaster_ ordered. "Then stand until I return."_

_He was standing there, with his long shirt, barely covering when his bits when the _Headmaster_ returned with the rattan. Severus began shaking when he saw the instrument of his punishment. The _Headmaster_ stood next to his desk, and he motioned for Severus to come towards him._

_Naturally, he stayed right where he was, his legs refusing to move._

_"Eleven," the _Headmaster_ stated._

_Again, the crook of the _Headmaster_'s finger, and Severus' legs still refused to move._

_"Twelve," the _Headmaster_ calmly stated, as though he were asking Severus if he wanted sugar for his tea._

_By the number fifteen, Severus was standing by the desk._

_"Raise your shirt, and put your hands on the desk."_

_His punishment was up to eighteen lashes, before he had his hands on the desk._

_"Nineteen, Mr. Snape. I shouldn't have to tell you to bend over the desk," the _Headmaster_ stated. _

_He bent, but realized that the _Headmaster_ could see his bits, so he struggled to hide them with his shirt._

_"Twenty!" the _Headmaster_'s voice was still soft as he continued, "You've managed to double your punishment by being obstinate. Continual, willful disobedience will now earn you five additional lashes."_

_His weeping redoubled, he bent over the desk, wishing that he could be brave, and bear his punishment like a Gryffindor. Sirius Black never sniveled._

_"Twenty five," was the next pronouncement from the _Headmaster_. "Stop your weeping Snivellous."_

_Severus put his hand in his mouth, biting down on it to muffle his sobs._

_He nearly screamed when he first felt the rattan against his naked skin. The _Headmaster_ was putting his all into his swing._

_"One…."_

_The lashes continued to fall, and the _Headmaster_ continued to calmly count until he reached twenty five._

_"There's no skin left on your buttocks, boy. Now, go lie down on the couch. Keep your shirt off your cheeks."_

_"Face up?" Severus quickly asked, fearful of angering the _Headmaster_._

_"Face down." The _Headmaster_ laughed softly._

_Severus did so, terrified of furthering riling the _Headmaster_. His burning buttocks were raw and bloody, and they seemed to have tripled in size, They were radiating heat, pulsating in time to his racing heartbeat, and Severus knew that there was no way he'd be able to wear pants, let alone trousers. How did the _Headmaster_ think that he'd be able to sit for classes tomorrow?_

_The horrible realization that the _Headmaster_ knew that he'd be in horrific pain tomorrow, but he didn't care one lick because Severus was a dirty little Slytherin came to him quickly._

_He felt the _Headmaster_ touch his cheek, and he whimpered._

_"Easy, boy, this will sting, but it will ensure that there's no infection." The _Headmaster_ explained. "But I better change the couch to a cot. It will make it easier to apply the medication. Can you prop yourself up? It'll be easier for you to drink."_

_The couch changed to a single bed, with a soft mattress. He propped himself using his elbows, and the _Headmaster_ handed him a cup of Hot Chocolate._

_"Drink it. After I punish students, I always give them Hot Chocolate. That way they know that after their punishment has been meted out, all has been forgiven," the _Headmaster_ gently insisted, and so Severus drank._

_In all this life, he had never tasted such a treat. The Hot Chocolate was unlike any Hot Chocolate he had ever tasted, rich and creamy, and he gratefully drank every drop. When he was done drinking, Severus felt… safe._

_"This might sting, Severus."_

_The _Headmaster_'s fingers were covered with a cool cream, which burned when he massaged it into the painful welts on Severus' sensitive skin. He was thorough, massaging the ointment into Severus' wounds, ignoring how the boy whimpered as the ointment stung._

_"Considering what a tough skinned little Slytherin you are, I have to confess that I'm surprised that your skin was so delicate."_

_There was a cool burst of air against his skin, and Severus realized that the _Headmaster_ was blowing on his wounds to take the sting away._

_He was so tired, and he was drifting._

_The _Headmaster_ insisted on him drinking another cup of Hot Chocolate, and he was barely able to finish it before he was sleeping in a half-doze. Meanwhile, the _Headmaster_ continued to massage and knead his cheeks with his salve covered hands. Slowly and deliberately, the _Headmaster_ squeezed and rubbed his buttocks, gently blowing on his raw wounds to take the sting away, and Severus continued to drift in a warm haze._

_The _Headmaster_'s hands were … in a strange area…massaging and fondling him and Severus attempted to close his legs, but the _Headmaster_'s legs were positioned so as to make it impossible. It didn't stop him from struggling, and the _Headmaster_ continued to knead and rub him in the most private of areas. It felt…good… but it was… wrong… to be touched there._

_"Easy," the _Headmaster_'s voice whispered in his ear. "It'll be easier if you don't struggle. Relax, doesn't it feel so good? Don't you trust me?"_

_"No…" Severus whispered. "Yes…"_

_"Which is it?" The _Headmaster_ intently questioned. When Severus didn't immediately answer, the _Headmaster_ began to delicately stroke him in a very odd spot. It made him feel… strange… warm… aching… but it felt so … good. "How about this? Does this feel good?"_

_Severus whispered his shy agreement and the _Headmaster_ laughed._

_"You want this," the _Headmaster_ insisted. "You flaunted yourself in front of me. Most boys hide their privates when I cane them, but you, being a dirty, little Slytherin whore, proudly showed off your bits. You should be delighted, you wanted me to notice you, and I have."_

_The _Headmaster_'s weight was on top of him….pushing him into the mattress and… and…it hurt. His pleas for the _Headmaster_ to stop were ignored, and…  
_

Severus woke then, his heart pounding, and he was overwhelmed with an urge to vomit. To his surprise, someone was prepared for him to sickup, as there was a bin being shoved in front of him for his use. When even the dry heaves had stopped, and his stomach had stopped its rebellion, Severus realized that he was being supported by Albus,

"Here, take a sip," Albus placed a glass against his lips. "How is your arm?"

"What is it?" Severus protested, refusing to drink anything that Albus offered to him. The dream was too fresh… too raw for him to do otherwise. "My arm's fine. It doesn't hurt at all at the moment."

"Water, nothing more, nothing less. It's not…. Hot Chocolate…" That admission was whispered by a rather somber Albus.

Severus flinched, and pulled away from Albus. That quick movement caused Albus to wince, and the Headmaster bit back a curse.

"Please don't do that again," Albus softly requested. "My arm's paining for me some reason. I must have slept on it wrong."

For a wonder, the mercurial Headmaster's blue eyes were twinkling, as he was obviously quite amused by his quip.

_I don't understand you, _Headmaster_._

"What are you doing here?" Severus softly questioned. "What time is it? How long have I been sleeping?"

"I was… sleeping… dozing really… when I… knew I had to get down here… I shared… your dream… I believe… I Floo'd here as Poppy wasn't here, but her assistant was. I just knew that it was necessary to wake you quickly, and I didn't have time to argue why I needed to do so." Albus then offered him the glass once more, and Severus carefully sipped from it, in order to gain his composure.

First things first, he couldn't think with Albus' right arm supporting him, especially not while Albus' hand was gently rubbing his shoulder in what Albus no doubt meant to be a comforting gesture.

"Don't you dare touch me," Severus spat, and the amused twinkle faded from Albus' eyes. No, instead his eyes turned somber.

_**Daft old bugger! I both crave and fear your touch! Can't you understand that?**_

"Let me prop you up first," Albus stated; his voice calm and unruffled in spite of Severus' outburst. Several pillows were placed just so and Severus was propped into a sitting position.

They sat in silence for a bit, Severus intent on drinking. His hand shook, and he cursed his clumsiness when he spilled it on himself. Albus produced a towel for him to blot himself dry, and he exchanged the glass for the towel.

"As you are well aware, I'm a bit of a prude," Albus quietly stated. "I also lack your experience in sexual matters. Compared to your worldliness in such matters, I am but an innocent child."

Severus attempted to find some place to hide, in order to avoid this strange turn in their conversation, but he was unable to locate a suitable hiding spot. Instead, he took back the nearly empty glass and began to focus on drinking.

"I firmly believe that love making should be an enjoyable experience for all involved. In my rather illogically optimistic opinion, carnal pleasure is a gift meant to be both given and shared. The very idea that someone could find it sexually arousing to cane a twelve year old boy long after his skin has been broken is abhorrent to me. To drug and then sexually molest a student when he's only able to weakly protest is the vilest of crimes. Severus, I swear to you, on any Oath you demand, that I have never done that."

Severus nodded his head once, deliberately not looking at the Headmaster and Albus gently placed two of his fingers on Severus' chin, forcing him to look at him.

"I recognize that my nightmare Headmaster wasn't you, Headmaster," Severus softly protested. "You'd never do such a thing, I know. It was just a very bad dream, nothing more. You were always very gentle with me… In fact, you were extremely considerate about my enjoyment."

His voice slowed, and he looked away from Albus. He couldn't stare in Albus' blue eyes, as he'd willingly drown in them.

"Who caned you when you were twelve years old, Severus?" Albus intently questioned. "They didn't use a rattan, did they? No, they used a metal pipe…."

"No one," Severus insisted. He was proud, that his voice was composed and steady. How the hell did Albus know about that? Memories threatened to break loose, of fearfully running away, being trapped by three older boys, struggling to breathe while cheap liquor was poured down his throat in order make him…pliable.

_"Thinks he's all that and chips just 'cos he went to private boarding school in Scotland," said the oldest._

_"I'm sure that they caned him because he's such a dirty skank… he must have the scars on his buttocks!"  
_  
He quickly drank the remainder of the water. "May I have more please, Headmaster?"

Once, in private, Severus had been comfortable enough to call the Headmaster by his first name. Now he using the correct honorific in order to push Albus into a firmly, recognizable role. Right now, in order to feel safe, Severus desired his boundaries to be clearly defined, and that damnable Albus….no… Headmaster was refusing to play by his rules! Wishing that the damnable, permutable Albus would firmly stay securely within the boundaries of the Headmaster box was futile. The Headmaster did whatever the hell he wanted. No doubt he thought it would be easier for Severus if he approached him as if they were friends and lovers.

But the two men had never been truly friends, only a superior and his inferior, a General and his foot solidier, and the only time they had been lovers had been a cock up of major proportions. Severus had the sprogged up belly and the sore man tits to back up his claim.

_**Don't listen to me; I love you, my little Slytherin-Griffindor Sprogling. I just can't handle dealing with your Dad right now. He means well, like most Griffindors do and he's being hopelessly noble and upstanding, but I need to be a true Slytherin to my very core… womb… and focus on your needs right now. You, me and your needs are important. Not Dad. He's got lots of mates to help him through this. You and I just have Auntie Min. In fact, I hereby give you permission to call her Auntie Minnie, as it will torque her to no end. But you will be such a cute little sprogling that she'll have no choice but to let you call her that. **_

Albus filled his glass once more, and he began to sip again.

"Your first summer vacation from Hogwarts…. It must have been then, as that was the summer you were twelve. That fall, you seemed… brittle, and Lily Evans was your only friend. You even turned away from your fellow Slytherins. I remember… asking you one day, Severus, if you needed to talk to me. For a moment, I thought you would confide in me, but then you told me that you'd talk to Horace. I spoke to Horace, asked him to keep an eye on you. Whenever I asked him, Horace assured me that he had, and you seemed… to bounce back. Mistakenly, I had chalked it up to adolescence angst."

Severus said not a word, and Albus remained quiet for a bit.

"I'm sorry, Severus, that appears to have been the first of my many failures with regards to you."

"You have never failed me, Headmaster," Severus insisted.

"I should have followed through. I thought you would be more comfortable talking to your House Head." The Headmaster's voice sounded sincere.

"As Headmaster of this school, you had far more pressing issues than one unhappy dirty, little Slytherin," Severus selflessly stated.

"No," the Headmaster protested. "I never saw you as dirty, Severus, and I'll never see you as soiled. You can attempt to assuage my guilt all you want, but I know that I did fail you, and nothing I can do will ever correct that mistake."

What could he say to that? Nothing. The Headmaster was far too busy a man to keep an eye out on one little bedraggled Slytherin, but he didn't want to upset the Headmaster by reminding him of that simple truth so he kept drinking small sips of water.

"Odd," Albus finally stated. "Isn't it odd not to have our very Fierce Minerva here, glaring daggers at me and not so quietly warning that she'll turn me into a frog if I misbehave?"

Severus bit back a laugh, and Albus smiled.

"Go ahead; you can laugh at me, Severus. I've known for years how much you hate my taste in clothes and that you particularly loathe my hat. I'm sure the very idea of a green frog ribbiting around Hogwarts wearing a hat with a tassel, attempting to escape from Minerva's animagus form or Mrs. Norris is rather amusing," easily admitted Albus. "She's quite vexed with how badly I've botched this situation. Anything I try to do to assist you in this matter ends up upsetting you. My proposed solution to this will no doubt put our dear Minerva in a catatonic state."

"Pray tell, Headmaster, what do you propose to make this all better?" Severus sniped. He clenched the glass tightly in his hand and struggled to keep himself calm and composed.

"You were dying when we rescued you. In order to keep you alive… it was necessary for me to make a snap decision, Severus… I… bonded you…." The Headmaster's voice slowed, and he seemed worried about the Slytherin's less than chuffed reaction to the news.

"You bonded me… you _**bonded**_ me?" Severus' voice rose in consternation. "That's why you knew about the dreams? Isn't it custom to ask the one to be bonded first?"

"I only lightly bonded you, Severus. Just to give you enough life force to ensure that you stayed with us, rather than going beyond the Veil," Albus admitted. "When you're stronger, I can dissolve the bond, but the problem is you won't be getting stronger, Severus. In fact, you're growing weaker because…"

"The sprogling is weakening me," whispered Severus.

_**And I do it willingly for you, my little sprog. **_

"Yes, and it is unlikely that you will live long enough to ensure that the child will reach a viable stage. Therefore, I would post our banns in the Daily Prophet this upcoming week. After the required three postings, I would permanently bond you in a ceremony that is a private or as public as you desire. I just wish to invite Aberforth as he's my only living relative, and I hope you will agree to that. By permanently binding with you, I can easily give you the necessary magical energy to keep you and the child alive."

_**You damnable blood, noble, daft, old fool, that's exactly what the Dark Lord wants you to do! **_

"Think about it, Severus. I can support you, magically and financially during your pregnancy. I won't demand that you are sexually monogamous to me. In fact, in time, _**when **_and **_not _**if you've healed from this incident, if you wish to take a lover, I will make no protestations. I know that you are quite fond of Minerva and she truly has your best interests at heart. If you two decided to continue your affair, I would be extremely delighted to help promote and encourage your relationship in any manner that I could. You'll need a babysitter after all."

His heart lurched, and Severus' hard earned composure began to shatter.

_**Daddy knows about Auntie Min? **_

"You know… about Minerva?" Severus whispered.

The door to Severus' sickroom opened, and a tartan clad Minerva McGonagall stepped into the room. Her hair was barely restrained and she looked like a A Very Much Less Than Completely Chuffed Ancient Celt Warrioress from Days of Yore. Her green eyes were fiery, and Severus looked for an escape route. It would do the Sprogling no good to be turned into a tadpole while he and Albus merrily ribbited and leap frogged around the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

"It's THREE in the MORNING on SUNDAY, ALBUS," Minerva growled. "Can you not leave Severus alone? Must you constantly badger him? Is it necessary for me to hex you into behaving?"


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer #1 – Not my characters.

Disclaimer #2 – AU, Dark Fic, Non con, Mpreg, angst,

* * *

The door to Severus' sickroom opened, and a tartan clad Minerva McGonagall stepped into the room. Her hair was barely restrained and she looked like a A Very Much Less Than Completely Chuffed Ancient Celt Warrior from Days of Yore. Her green eyes were fiery, and Severus looked for an escape route. It would do the Sprogling no good to be turned into a tadpole while he and Albus merrily ribbited and leap frogged around the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. 

"It's THREE in the MORNING on SUNDAY, ALBUS," Minerva growled. "Can you not leave Severus alone? Must you constantly badger him? Is it necessary for me to hex you into behaving?"

Behind Minerva, Madam Pomfrey was cursing like a Curse Breaker who had a spell rebound.

"What is happening _**now**_?" Poppy's strident voice carried. "Severus is supposed to be resting, not entertaining! I will not have my Infirmary turned into a raree show."

"Nothing happened," Albus calmly assured the invading army of Amazons. For good measure, he even benevolently smiled at them. "Severus and I were having a conversation. There was no badgering or harassment involved."

Naturally, Minerva, having a lifetime's worth of experience of dealing with Albus, wasn't fooled at all by Albus' tranquil demeanor.

"Then what in name of Merlin's bloody scrote are you doing here at three in the morning?" Minerva snapped.

"Minerva, for shame. Such language from the mouth of one of our school's foremost instructors," Albus gently chastised her.

"One of the foremost? I've been damned by faint praise. There's barely a bloody dozen of us, Albus!"

"How many times have I spoken to you about your self esteem issue, Min?" Albus quipped. "Truly you are more talented than you give yourself credit!"

For that flippant remark, Minerva's eyes dangerously narrowed. Albus Dumbledore, having defeated a dark wizard or three in his long lifetime, was not cowed in the slightest by Minerva, Scottish Warrior Maiden. Severus, on the other hand, was still looking for escape route that wasn't blocked by one of the combatants.

"That's it! That's it!" Poppy then gestured dramatically with her wand before making a stabbing motion in Albus' direction. "Whenever you're here, Head Master, chaos occurs, shouting begins and my patient is usually in need of a Calming Draft by the time you're finished creating mischief. You've been banned from the infirmary, Head Master. You will find that there are some matters at Hogwarts in which my authority holds sway over yours."

"I've been_**banned**_?" Albus good-naturedly questioned. "What if I'm _**dying**_? What if I'm in need of medical care? Do I need to crawl to St. Mungo's?"

"You'll be given admittance to the Infirmary. If your mortal wound is self-inflicted, you'll find yourself at St. Mungo's in a trash bin." Poppy snapped, her cheerful nature at last exhausted by Albus' shenanigans. "Now,_**go**_!"

"Not so fast," Minerva ordered, not wanting Albus to leave the scene, until he made a full listing of his crimes. "I still want an explanation on why you're here!"

"Severus was having a nightmare; I thought it best that he woke before the dream concluded. Ask your assistant, Poppy, she'll confirm what I'm telling you. I asked if you were here. When I found that you were not here, I came because I thought it would be faster than explaining the situation to your assistant," Albus explained.

Damn the man, he was radiating sincerity, Minerva thought, though she noticed that the Slytherin obviously wished he was elsewhere.

"Severus, I believe that it is in your best interest to immediately remove Albus as the person responsible for making your medical decisions if you're incapable to do so," Poppy suggested. "He's too intimately involved with the current situation for me to feel comfortable with him making decisions for you."

Albus was quickly finding out why irritating Poppy was such a dangerous thing to do, and for a very brief moment, Minerva felt some compassion for Albus. Not a great deal, you understand, but from painful, first hand experience, she knew that the Head Master was striving to do the correct thing in this impossible situation.

"Agreed," Severus quickly answered. "I hereby verbally rescind my prior declaration that Albus Dumbledore has full rights to make my decisions if I am incapacitated. I request that Minerva McGonagall be allowed to make all decisions with regards to me or the child I am carrying if I am unable to do so."

"And _**done**_!" Poppy announced before Minerva had a chance to say yay, nay or even hey!

* * *

The serene look in the Head Master's blue eyes frightened Severus, as his composure meant the Head Master had successfully out maneuvered Poppy. The Head Master was smiling at him, shaking his head in weary, paternal disapproval as though Severus was once more a naughty student caught hexing James Potter. When the Head Master spoke, his voice was mild. 

"Unfortunately, it's not as simple as that, Severus. Three people know that I fathered your child. Minerva, Poppy and Filius, which means that by law, I am the only one empowered to make decisions for the child if you are unable to do so. If for any reason, I, Albus Percival Wulferic Brian Dumbledore am deemed incapable of handling this responsibility, I hereby name Aberforth Kenneth Malcolm Abercrombie Dumbledore as guardian of the child."

There was a stunned moment of silence as everyone in the room took a minute to digest that tidbit.

'_**He just didn't do that'**_, was the first of many panicked thoughts in the room. "_**ABERFORTH? Doesn't he have that odd goat fetish?"**_

"And_**done**_!" Albus' voice rang in the room, and then he beatifically smiled at Minerva. Albus was always charitable when he won an argument, as he felt it was bad form to gloat.

"Your _**brother**_?" Minerva softly questioned, praying to a half dozen goddesses that Albus was joking.

It appeared that Minerva was utterly gobsmacked that Albus would play the Aberforth card. Severus never thought the Dumbledore brothers were particularly close, considering that they were such polar opposites. The Head Master was a symbol of virtue, of all that was good and proper in the wizard world, noted for his courage and his intellect, while his brother was notorious for a tawdry incident regarding… a goat.

A GOAT!

_Merlin's scrote, the sprogling will be raised by goats! She'll believe she's a goat kid! She'll be directly drinking from the tap of the Hog's Head by the time she's two!_

"In spite of his somewhat dodgy appearance, Abeforth is exceptionally good with children, Minerva, so you need not fear that your godchild will be raised by goats. She may develop a fondness for goat milk though," Albus' voice was still calm, but Severus could _hear_ the Head Master's growing annoyance that was focused towards the Slytherin. "Now, since I'm banished from the Infirmary, I will be leaving. Just a reminder, Poppy?"

"What _now_, Albus?" The Mediwitch was standing her ground and failing to realize that she was just further angering Albus.

"I may have no lawful right to know Severus' condition, but I am still legally entitled for information on the child. I expect it _**hourly**_ on my desk, Madam Pompfrey," Albus announced in a don't-you-even-think-to-give-me-any-backtalk-and-expect-to-live-to-brag-about-it. Then his voice turned softer, but Severus could still feel the steel fist that was hidden by the velvet glove.

"Now, let me wish everyone a good night… or good morning, as the case may be. Severus, the offer to put our banns in the Daily Prophet…" Albus gently stated.

"_What_?" Minerva spat, obviously disbelieving what she had just heard. "Banns? You're talking _**BANNS**_?"

Like the waves of the sea crashing on the shore take no notice of the sand, Albus blithely continued to speak over Minerva's protestations.

"…And permanently bond you is still on the table. Naturally, Minerva is ensured an invitation to the ceremony as she's been so intimately involved with our relationship. Perhaps, you'd care to use her as Best Maid? While it's a break from tradition, I don't think we have ever defined our relationship as conventional. Once again, I extend my offer to blithely ignore whatever affairs you wish to conduct, as I doubt that you will ever be truly comfortable with pursuing a physical relationship with me."

To Severus' utter bewilderment, the Head Master leaned over and gently kissed him on his head. He tried not to shiver, but he couldn't help himself.

"I know you have reason to doubt my sincerity, but I do care about you, Severus. I always have," Dumbledore whispered.

Then in a louder tone, the Head Master continued speaking, "There will be more clothes arriving for you later that are more in line with your traditional garb. I thought you would be in need of a suitable dressing gown first. They've been modified for your specific needs, and they will fit you even until late September…. That reminds me, September, the start of a new school year… It will be difficult for Minerva to have our new Assistant Deputy Headmaster out on medical leave, but I'm sure that she's up to the challenge. We'll have to discuss the new position I had proposed to you, and what it will entail after you're released from the Infirmary."  
_  
Assistant Deputy Headmaster? I'm to be… Assistant Deputy Headmaster?_

"Albus, you've had seventeen curtain calls and a dozen standing ovations, it's now time for you to exit stage right and bid all a graceful adieu," Minerva hissed.

Thankfully, Minerva's tart comment distracted Albus from giving voice to another soliloquy.

"Now, Severus, I must be going. Think on what I offered, and let me know your opinions. I would also appreciate if you could assure these… _**harridans**_… that I did in fact wake you from a nightmare."

Then with a blistering glare directed at both shrews, Hurricane Dumbledore swept from the room. Minerva quickly checked that Albus had left the infirmary, and then she sank into the chair closest to Severus' bed.

"Harridans? He called us _**harridans**_?" Poppy snapped. "Merlin help him that he doesn't show up in my Infirmary before I forgive that comment."

The total chaos and all around general insanity of his life was really becoming a bit too much for Severus, and his emotional control was getting a tad shaky.

"Can you leave, please?" Severus requested. One of the horrors of this experience was that now that he was magicless, he had to be polite. Before, he could snipe and snarl, mock and abuse, free from the fear of reprisal but now… now… he had to rely on the kindness of others.

_Oh, how the mighty have fallen!  
_  
"Nightmares, Severus?" Minerva softly questioned. "How's your arm?"

"My arm doesn't hurt," he quickly admitted. That's all to which he'd willing confess.

"I can't give you anything to help you sleep for another four hours," Poppy explained. "Fetal toxicity. But you shouldn't have had any nightmares."

"The Head Master managed to wake me before it got too far," Severus slowly admitted. Yes, he had endured that particular nightmare often enough to be quite grateful that he missed the… climax of the grand finale.

Poppy then left the room, after procuring a sworn oath from him that he'd immediately notify her if he needed anything. The Mediwitch failed to notice that he had crossed his fingers.

"Let's tuck you in, Severus," Minerva decided. She took his messy covers and began straightening them. "Left arm in or out?"

"I'm not a first year, Minerva," he snapped. Next thing he would know, Minerva would be pushing Hot Chocolate on him. He shuddered at the very idea of Hot Chocolate, remembering all too well the nightmares that began with the Head Master consoling him with heavily laced Hot Chocolate.

"No, you're too tall for a first year," Minerva retorted. She pulled the heavy covers over him, and she again asked him about his left arm.

"Cover," he decided.

She did so, after she had carefully cast Bubble Cushioning charm around his stump.

"That way if you accidentally turn onto your side, it won't hurt," she explained. "I remember that you usually sleep on your left side."

The witch's considerate gesture touched him deeply, and Severus gave her a tremulous smile. His composure was slipping, and he savagely cursed himself for his weakness. He needed to regain his emotional equilibrium. He _**had**_ to be strong; else the storm known as Albus would easily overwhelm him. Dwelling on what had happened to him would just weaken him.

Being strong meant that he needed to more assertive in any and all discussions regarding Severus Snape. Far too many people were making life changing decisions involving him and the sprog, and he should be allowed his input.

"Did you speak to Horace?" Severus questioned. His voice was rock steady and self-possessed, and it took every ounce of his strength to prevent his voice from shaking.

"Yes, and he quite wishes to help." Minerva assured him.

"Slughorn wants to either write a paper regarding my case or he wishes to have me in a position of owing him a favor," the Slytherin retorted. For good measure, he glared at Minerva. How could Minerva actually believe the best of Horace? He was _**Slytherin**_, after all. Merlin's beard, was Minerva getting soft?

"You find it hard to believe that our Horace could be magnanimous?" Minerva questioned. "I always found him to be the most giving of souls."

In bed, she refrained from adding, as that was Too Much Information for Severus.

"I actually find that impossible to believe," he dryly retorted. "I know him quite well, and he is Slytherin after all. Magnanimity is a Hufflepuff characteristic."

"He spoke with Poppy for some time last night, and he'll talk to you later today if you agree," Minerva stated.

"Do I have a choice? You're my guardian, and you're making my decisions for me," Severus retorted.

"I'm_**asking**_ you rather than _**demanding**_ your blind obedience to my decrees," the witch reminded him. "You've given me control of your care, and I won't make the same mistake that Albus did. You were never one to let others make decisions involving you, Severus, and I'll remember that."

"Aberforth," Severus whispered, as he was getting drowsy thanks to some nonvocal spellcasting by Minerva. "You can't negate the Head Master naming Aberforth as guardian of the sprogling. That's so unfair for the poor child. Can you imagine what a horror her life will be? She'll have my nose, the Head Master's beard, and she'll only be able to bleat like a goat."

"But she'll know that she is loved," Minerva assured him. "I promise you that no matter what else happens to the wee bairn that I will love that poor little wild girl raised by goats. I'll shave her beard off, though I will ensure that she keeps your nose as it will remind me of you every time I see her blighted face. "

He knew that she was teasing him, and only because it was his Minerva, did Severus not make a suitably caustic comment. Plus, he was so tired… drifting…

"Merlin's bloody arse, Min, can you just imagine how the Head Master will dress the poor child? Spangles, beads and… the colors, Min. You'll make sure… that…. He doesn't make her wear… matching… frocks… They'll… pick… on…her…"

His eyes were closing, and his breathing was slowing, but Severus whispered, "Min? Stay?"

"Go to sleep, Severus, I'll stay and keep watch over you," Minerva agreed.

Within minutes, Severus was deeply asleep. Next to him, a silver tabby cat arched her back, and experimentally flicked her claws. After a suitable stretch that eased the various kinks in her back, the tabby carefully positioned herself on Severus' chest and began to loudly purr.

* * *

After a dreamless sleep, Severus woke with a sleeping cat on his chest. Carefully, he began to scratch her furry back, and he was rewarded with a soft questioning chirp as Minerva sleepily greeted him. 

"No bad dreams," he assured her. Least he didn't remember any.

She butted his hand with her head, which Severus took to mean that she had a scratch behind her ear. The cat leaned into his fingers, as she stretched, and her purring grew louder.

"Poppy made a proper mess of things last night, Min," Severus informed her. "She didn't ban Fawkes. I'm sure the Head Master already has him spying."

The cat stopped in mid-stretch and then Minerva the cat leaped off his chest, Transforming back into Minerva the witch in mid-air.

"I realized that," Minerva admitted. "I was hoping you hadn't thought of it. But, on the positive side, more of Albus' presents have arrived. Why don't you get out of the dressing gown, wash up and try them on?"

She then reached over and rubbed his stubbly chin. "I'll shave you if you like," the witch offered. "I know you're partial shaving with a cutthroat blade, but I think your hand is a little too shaky."

* * *

Severus was only slightly winded, not terribly so, by the time he had washed and changed. Minerva had offered to use a cutthroat razor to give him a smooth shave and he agreed. He needed to keep his physical shaking under control, and if Min didn't manage to slit his jugulars because of an inopportune fit of trembling, he'd consider the experience a success. Steely eyed, stalwart Minerva soaped and then shaved him with a surprisingly practiced ease, and she was quite amused when he rubbed his face. 

"No nicks," she assured him. "If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't use a cutthroat. Too messy."

The witch helped him to a chair, and he managed to sit rather than fall into it.

"Your strength is returning, which is a good sign." The witch said in a very positive tone.

He growled, which caused Minerva to laugh.

"And your good humor is returning also, which is _**wonderful**_, as I've missed my sweet Severus. On to more important issues then your sweet disposition, you had to admit that in spite of the fact that Albus is a right pain in the arse at time, he does have good taste in clothing," Minerva admitted.

"It's too much," Severus muttered as he stared at the literal mountain of clothes that had appeared.

A black fuzzy sweater, two frock coats, two pairs of trousers, three white silk shirts, a silk cravat that was charmed to tie itself around his neck, a dozen pants, a bespelled set of boots that would fasten themselves, and yet another pair of fuzzy socks. There was a note that said that there would be more forthcoming but that the rush order had been completed

Plus there was a whole satchel of books, rare books of the arcane that Severus knew were from Albus' personal library. There was a note in Albus' distinctive scrawl that Severus was to inform him when he was done reading, as he had still more books selected that he thought Severus would enjoy. He was itching to read them, devour them and memorize the knowledge contained within.

"Albus has been busy knitting," Minerva commented, as she looked at the charcoal grey sweater. "Another pair of socks? And in sensible colors, thank Merlin. That sweater might be his work also, though he probably changed the color of the wool and Transfigured it to fit you. He's Charmed it also, I see."

"The Head Master knits?" He incredulously asked. It was extremely bizarre to even consider the idea that one of the most powerful wizards in Europe _**knitted**_. Knitting was such a _**Molly Weasley**_ thing to do.

"Yes, all those horrible socks and scarf sets he hands out every Christmas? He knits them in his spare time as he claims it relieves his stress. You do know about his fascination with knitting patterns? Every year for his birthday, I track down magazines full of knitting patterns. He's happier than a kid with a fistful of galleons in Honeydukes."

"I never knew," Severus slowly admitted. "I must admit that I never wore them."

"If he would just make them in sensible colors, I think some of the staff would actually wear them." Minerva admitted. "But he's always insists on these wild patterns, and these strange designs. I think the lions playing quidditch this time were really quite over the top, though they were quite lifelike. I'll have to wear them to the next Quidditch match, and make sure that he sees that I'm wearing them. He's _**thrilled**_ whenever he knows we're wearing his socks."

The Head Master had kept the color scheme and the basic outfit that he preferred, thank Merlin, but the cut was different, finer and more sophisticated than the norm, and the fabric….Merlin's beard, Albus had spared no expense. Soft, silky fabrics, far too fine for an Instructor to wear, but Minerva had assured him that the Head Master had cast a Clothing Protection spell on his clothes so they were student proof.

He couldn't help but stare at his new clothes that were suitable garments for an _Assistant Deputy Headmaster._ He'd have _**respect**_ then… No longer would he be the Greasy Git of the Dungeon, repeated rejected candidate for the DADA teaching position, and only given it this year because no sane candidate wanted the position. Even the insane ones had refused to consider the assignment this year.

Oh! If he had only remained in his dungeons!  
_  
But Daddy wouldn't have you, my little sprog._

"I can sense Filius' work," Minerva finally admitted. "Even though I know about your left arm, I can't really notice it. I have to deliberately concentrate and focus on your arm in order to see…."

"That my sleeve is empty," Severus firmly stated. He needed to face facts and stop mollycoddling himself.

To his surprise, Minerva put her hands on his shoulders, and she stared into his dark eyes, weighing and considering carefully what she was about to say.

"Sev, listen to me," she said in a very gentle voice. "You're still in shock. You're still fairly emotionally numb, so you're managing to walk and talk right now. You're functioning, Severus, not living. In time, when the numbness wears off, you might find yourself quite utterly besieged by what you're feeling. When the emotional damn breaks, I want you to contact me, no matter the time. It's better to talk to someone who has walked the walk, Severus."

"No…." he softly protested as Severus realized what Minerva meant. No! Not his Minerva who was so stalwart and resolute.

"Yes," she simply said. Her smile was sad, and she shook her head. "It happened years ago, Severus. It took time and a great deal of love, but I healed. So will you, my Slytherin. I promise you. What ever happens, remember you are a _**normal**_ person, reacting _**normally**_ to a horrific event. "

His mind was racing, and Minerva put her finger over his lips to prevent him from asking the question.

"Order business that went wrong. I managed to put the fear of Minerva McGonagall into many of them, but I was outnumbered. Albus… Albus blamed himself… and… I didn't blame him. I still don't blame him, as I accepted what the risks were… but Albus… he takes the wounds his followers suffer for the cause… personally."

"May I ask…" Severus paused, and then shook his head. "Never mind."

"It was before Albus and I were lovers. He was my first lover after what happened, but it was quite a few years," Minerva's voice was rock steady, but Severus could see the pain in her eyes. "Albus is from a different generation than the two of us. He's rather reserved when it comes to sex, and he's only taken a few lovers in his life. I wanted… I craved… reassurance that someone could find me sexually desirable after what happened. I fell hard for him, and I relentlessly propositioned him... until he rather bashfully agreed. Albus wanted everything to be special for me, and he nearly swept me off my feet in his desire to assure me. He was good for me... but when I healed... I realized that our relationship wasn't enough for me."

"Does he often clothe the less fortunate of Order members who have been harmed and injured for the cause?" Severus softly questioned. "Does he lend out his books to all the injured?"

His voice trembled when he asked the last question.

"Did… he offer… to post your Banns in the Daily Prophet?"

_Damn it, damn it, you damn fool, you had wanted to pretend that he might actually care about you and the sprogling. It's just his guilt._

"I know you love him, Severus. I just wanted to remind you, Severus that you're injured, and our Albus can be irresistible. Even for war weary, hardened souls like you and me, love. Severus, please think clearly on any decisions before you make them."

"I can't bear to have him touch me," Severus whispered. "If he gets too close to me…but Minerva, I want…."

"I understand," she whispered. "I do. Now let's have a spot of breakfast, shall we? Then I'll Floo Horace and find out if he's free. He's decided he knows the perfect cure-all for you."

"It's a class six potion," Severus tiredly protested. "I can't have it as it will cause a miscarriage."

"No, Severus. He told Poppy that he plans on having you brew. Now, considering my expertise are in the Transfiguration area, I fail to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses, but Horace believes that a little brewing will cure what ails you."

Severus' right hand itched, as he ignored the old jest about potions. To hold a silver knife once more? To prove to himself that he was capable of more than just lying in bed, bemoaning his fate?

Yes, that would be wonderful.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer #1 – Not my characters.

Disclaimer #2 – AU, Dark Fic, Non con, Mpreg, angst,

Disclaimer #3 - SS is a little OC in this, but please excuse him, as Albus is being...well... Albus, and that's enough to even crack the bravest soul.

* * *

The Hogwarts House Elves outdid themselves. A spot of breakfast turned into a full bloody breakfast. Pork sausages, bacon rashers, scrambled eggs, black and white pudding, toast, soda bread, marmalade, jam, lemon curd, grilled mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, scones plus far too many other edibles were brought into his room. 

"Merlin's saggy left tit," Severus whispered, as his traumatized stomach objected to the mere thought of eating even while the table groaned in protest at the sheer weight of breakfast. "I see Albus has decided that I'm not eating enough. He should have just fitted my room with a feeding trough."

"Actually, the House Elves did it on their own," Poppy explained from the safety of the doorway. "May I come in?"

"Do I have any chance at stopping you?" Severus growled. Even though his life was utterly topsy turvy, Severus struggled to maintain his usual dyspeptic attitude. Any weakness could be exploited, and he needed his emotional armor and his rapier wit to defend himself.

"Not really," the mediwitch admitted easily. "But it is considered polite to ask. Most importantly, I have someone who wants to visit you, and I thought you'd probably desire to see him before you saw Horace."

"Who now wants to spread the milk of human kindness by visiting the infirm?" His voice was deadpan.

Truthfully, he couldn't think of anyone one might want to see him. If the Dark Lord was at all concerned, he'd have Lucius drop off a fruit basket rather than stop by for a chin wag.

"Filius?" Minerva softly questioned.

"Yes, it's Filius," Poppy agreed.

"You should see him, Severus," the witch softly suggested. "Flitwick was quite concerned about you the last time I saw him."

"Plus he did nearly kill himself up rescuing me," Severus dryly. "Bring him in. I hope he's hungry."

Severus stared at food before turning a delicate shade of light green.

"I know I'm not," he dryly added.

After the Charms Master entered the room, he took one look at the food and then gazed at Severus before shaking his head. "I thought you were eating for two, not a bloody Quidditch league."

"The House Elves," Severus curtly explained. "Pull up a chair and join us. Poppy? I trust that you're staying."

"Maybe I'll have a bite," Poppy admitted.

Severus was hungrier than he had supposed, but the apparently fully recovered Filius still managed to tuck in a vast quantity before the quartet had finished demolishing breakfast. He was still finishing his regretfully decaffeinated cuppa when Poppy left, leaving just Filius and Minerva to hover over him. Filius and Minerva were busy verbally sparring over some arcane issue, and he was warm and fed and more than content to listen to the dangerous duo argue… but still… decaffeinated tea! Poppy had given him a list of do's and don'ts and caffeinated tea was a most assuredly a do not.

_Decaf! What I do for you, my little sprog!_

Decaffeinated tea was most assuredly a high crime against humanity!

"Filius, I swear you have the metabolism of a humming bird," Minerva chastised the Charms Instructor who was energetically nibbling on the last cheese scone.

"Just born lucky, I guess," the Charms Instructor quipped.

After Filius had tucked away the scone, the Charms Instructor then turned to Severus, and he extended his arm. "Your wand, wizard," Filius chirped.

Hesitantly, Severus took the ebony wand which looked exactly like his before it had been shattered. It possessed the same length and heft as his former wand, and wonders of wonders, the new wand felt the _**same**_ in his hand, comfortable and familiar, though Severus knew that it truly wasn't.

"Try a small spell," Filius helpfully suggested when it became obvious to all that Severus was hesitant to test the wand.

What to try? What to try? _Wingardium Leviosa_ was a spell suitable for first years, but he didn't want to shatter anything if the spell collapsed on him.

"Orchideous!" He gave it a half-hearted swish and flick, because while mentally, he knew that Filius wouldn't be giving him the wand without a great deal of testing beforehand to ensure that it worked, emotionally, Severus knew that he was magicless.

To his surprise, two flowers popped out of the end of his wand, and Minerva grabbed them before they hit the floor. They were two red roses, their petals loose, but Minerva was delighted.

"Severus! Flowers for me, how sweet," she teased. She made a great deal of hullabaloo over the blooms, insisting on smelling the flowers and then she shook her head in disapproval. The witch then handed them to Filius who examined them closely. For added torture, Filius pulled out a magnifying glass to closely examine the roses.

Merlin's dirty y-fronts, it was like he was back in school, as he nervously wondered if he had gotten an O or E. As much as Snape was loathe to admit it, he had to admit that both instructors would be more than generous to give him anything higher than an A for acceptable.

"I think that rates a Poor, Filius," Minerva stated sadly.

_Poor! They were beautiful roses! Your__Auntie Minnie needs to get her glasses checked._

"I have to agree, Minerva. In a bouquet there should be more than two, the petals are loose, and well, they definitely smell like irises rather than roses. The stamen is misshapen, and the pistils are off color. It's definitely not one of his better results, so shall we try again, Severus?" The Charms Instructor flashed him a very evil grin, and Severus scowled.

"I've been ill," he tersely reminded them.

"I didn't quite hear you," Filius retorted. "My ears are still ringing. You need to have complete confidence that this wand will work for you or else it won't work to its full potential. I can tell you were just humoring me."

"Orchideous!" He put his considerable will behind the spell, and to his delight, easily a dozen or so long stemmed roses popped out, complete with a compliment of calla lilies, baby's breath and ferns. Minerva had to struggle with the flowers, as they quickly filled her arms. "These flowers are for you, Minerva. Considering them a small token of my high opinion for you."

"Now he's getting exotic," the Charms Master drolly commented. "I think the boy wants extra credit. Take a look at them, Minerva, and then I'll check them. But Severus, do you think you could also produce a vase for them?"

The spell to Transfigure a tea pot to a vase was rather complex plus Severus knew that Min would ding him points if there was a tea spout and handle on the vase. Snape decided to add a few fancy touches just to prove that he could do it. He managed to produce a vase that looked somewhat like the vase that he had mentally prepared to cast, so he was content. Hopefully Minerva wouldn't know what design he had been attempting to place on the vase. The kitty cats didn't quite look like her animagus form, and in fact, looked more like a pride of drunken, fornicating Kneazles.

The expenditure of magical energy left him feeling winded, and he dozed for a brief time, letting Filius and Minerva talk amongst themselves.

"Severus?"

It was Filius' voice, soft so not to disturb him if he was truly sleeping, yet loud enough for him to hear if he was dozing.

"Yes?" He questioned. Blearily, he opened his eyes, and Severus was surprised to realize that he had slept for a good thirty minutes.

"I just need to remind you of a few things regarding the wand. It possesses only a limited supply of magic before it needs to be recharged," Filius then began to explain in intricate detail how he created the magical wand, and how it was powered.

It took a few moments for Severus to realize that the wand was charged by donated magical energy from various wizards.

"Who donated?" Severus asked. He hated feeling indebted to anyone, but this gift of defense demanded at least a proper thank you from him and the sprog.

"I did," Minerva inserted. "Poppy, Filius… and…"

Minerva paused, and Severus had a very sinking feeling that he was quite familiar with the fourth mage.

"_**Albus**_," whispered the Slytherin.

"Yes, I wasn't sure about the propriety of him donating, but he's being rather bull-headed. I know it's difficult to believe that our sweet, tractable Albus could ever be considered obdurate," Minerva dryly explained. "He claimed that since this was for the protection for his child that he had the right to donate."

"My debts to him keep increasing by leaps and bounds," Severus protested. "When will it ever end?"

"He owes _**you**_," Minerva tersely snapped. "Don't let him guilt you into anything, Severus."

"It's a little late," Severus retorted.

"I know, Severus," she admitted.

* * *

Minerva Floo'd him down the dungeons after brushing the various crumbs from brekkie off his new clothes, and Horace greeted him warmly. 

"Don't let him overdo it, Horace," Minerva warned Slughorn.

"I won't. We'll do a couple small potions, and if Severus wants to chat we will, if he doesn't, we won't chat. Then I promise to return him back to the infirmary by three." Horace cheerily assured Minerva.

After Minerva left, Horace laughed. "She shouldn't be a tabby cat animagus. She should be an English Bull Dog. Loyal, fierce, stubborn and overly protective. Now lad, let's get chopping, shall we? You'll need to set up your station."

Severus nodded his head, and he was quite chuffed that Horace hadn't set up a station for him. No, Horace was well aware that Potions Masters had their own unique style for setting up their work station. If Horace had set up a work station for him, it would have shamed Severus, because it would have been as though Horace had declared him an incapacitated invalid.

Taking his time to set up everything just so on his workstation, Severus hesitantly picked up his silver knife. Would the old skills come back to him? It took a few moments to orientate himself, as he had taken for granted what he had easily accomplished using his left hand, but soon the silver knife felt _right_ in his hand. There was no other way to explain it except it was as though part of his soul had been out on holiday and had decided to return. Now, with a silver knife in his hand, and a cauldron nearby, Severus was complete. Carefully, he began mincing the peppermint into a fine consistency.

Truly, there was nothing quite as restorative as brewing to calm his nerves.

He nicked a sprig and began to chew. Hopefully it would help settle his stomach after this morning's brekkie. He shouldn't have had the third helping of mushrooms but the sprog had wanted them.

The two Potions Masters worked in companionable silence, Horace occasionally interjecting a comment or three which Severus would tersely answer. It wasn't that he was being deliberately rude to the older Potions Master, Severus was never one for idle chit-chat when he was busy brewing. From personal experience, he knew how much could go wrong if he was distracted. He was finishing mortaring and pestling moonstone into a very delicate powder, suitable for use in healing potions, when Horace interrupted him.

"Severus, I think that's enough for now. I'll be brewing a Draught of Peace for you later. I believe that the addition of peppermint to the brew will help negate the hellebore's acidity for your poor stomach's sake. Last thing you need is to develop a bleeding ulcer." Horace explained. "Now, we need to talk, Slytherin to Slytherin, Severus."

"What do you wish to talk about?" Severus questioned. Deliberately, he concentrated on completely wiping down his station by hand, ensuring that everything was just so, not wanting to show his unease. Yes, he could use magic to clean his station, but that was the _**lazy**_ way. Plus, it was always beneficial to hand check every bit of one's work station to discover what equipment might be in need of replacement. For example, his medium sized glass flask was showing wear on the lip, and he needed to purchase a new one.

"I need a new glass flask, medium size," Severus muttered.

"I have a spare that you can have," Horace offered. "I got several samples of that size from one of the glassmakers I know. It has additional resistance to heat and the various acidic compounds, so she wanted me to use it and see how it worked. She's a former student of mine, she had graduated maybe ten years or so before your class arrived."

"Thank you," the younger Potions Master said, and he pretended to listen to Horace as he raved about Lyssa Smythe's skill with glass.

It wouldn't hurt to be polite, as at the moment, his funds were rather limited, and he'd have to scrimp to make this month's payment for his mother and still have enough to live on. Yes, Albus was planning on being generous to the incubator and an allowance would soon no doubt be provided to him like he was twelve. In all likelihood, the promised job was nothing more than a makeshift position to get him on the payroll.

Damn it, he had his pride. He shouldn't have to rely on the kindness of others, especially not the goodwill of the wizard that had gotten him up the duff.

"Now, the matter I wish to discuss with you is the simple fact that Slytherin House is in an uproar. Your disappearance has upset the students greatly, so I wish to know how to handle it. They feel abandoned by you."

_Abandoned?__**Abandoned!**_

Slughorn heartily laughed as Severus' skeptical expression.

"Yes, the Slytherin students do rather like you, Severus," insisted Horace.

"The Head Master hasn't given you specific instructions?" Severus quipped.

He was rewarded with a snort from Slughorn.

"He's _**Gryffindor**_, lad. He doesn't understand the bonds between Slytherins," Horace reminded him.

"I've experienced first hand the bonds between Slytherins," Severus retorted. "As much as it pains to admit me, perhaps we could learn a few things from the House of Hufflepuff."

"I called a House meeting for one this afternoon. The rumors are spreading that you're actually here at Hogwarts. We need to figure out what to tell them, Severus," Horace gently informed him.

"Doesn't the Head Master have his script prepared?" he retorted. "I'm surprised he hasn't given you implicit instructions."

"No, and I've not given him the opportunity to catch me in the hallway," Horace assured him. "What do you want to tell them?"

"I'm not quite sure. The fact that I'm two months up the duff with the Head Master's sprog thanks to the Dark Lord's tender mercies might be too much truth for them to handle," Severus dryly admitted.

Horace shook his head.

"No, no, no, I think we can leave that bit out. I don't want to have to deal with an entire Houseful of boys worrying that they can get pregnant," Horace dryly admitted. "And I certainly don't want to worry that one of them will actually find the right spell!"

"Plus several of their fathers helped do this to me," Severus slowly confessed. "I'll have to look them in their eyes, and understand that they know the truth."

"Hmm… you're carrying a wand, and they won't expect that. Perhaps a little discussion with them after the general show, you can use magic to show that you're not defenseless, imply that you've aborted the baby…" Horace suggested. "You _**are**_ a Potions Master, and as much as it pains to admit me, you're my superior in brewing skills. But at least I can take great solace in the fact that I taught you. I always knew you'd be a Potions Master, lad."

Severus thought upon the subject for some time, and then he decided what he was about to say. A small fearful voice suggested that perhaps he needed to speak with Albus before he spoke to his former students, but Severus quickly quashed that thought. He needed to take control of his life.

"Very well, we have a few minutes to prepare," Severus finally stated. "This is what we will tell them."

* * *

Horace did have a flare for drama, Severus admitted, as the current Slytherin House Head had everyone sitting in the Great Hall for the mandatory house meeting. He spoke on a variety of subjects and then Horace commented on the recent spread of rumors regarding Severus Snape's disappearance. 

"I understand that you all have questions, and I feel the best way to handle it, is by letting you voice your concerns," Horace explained. "If you don't mind, Severus?"

Snape walked out from behind the Glamour that had hid him, and Severus was surprised by the response. The damnable rug rats, the children that he had hated, all looked delightedly surprised to see him back. Even Malfoy, McNair, Goyle and Crabbe seemed… surprised… though perhaps not so delighted, to judge by their sick expressions.

"Accio chair!" he called, and one of the chairs from the Staff Table bounced over to where he was. He sat down easily in it, and then smiled. The Death Eater's spawn were plainly stunned by his use of magic.

"I am truly sorry that I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to you all before I quit. I would have, except it was the Holiday break and did not wish to disturb you at your holidays. Plus you have to admit that visiting over one hundred homes to personally inform each of you regarding my decision to leave would have been difficult to achieve."

"Why did you leave us?" Millicent Bulstrode plaintively questioned. "You didn't even say goodbye."

There were assorted sounds of agreement and several of the Slytherins were even misty-eyed! Merlin's scrote! Where the students in front of him Slytherins or Hufflepuffs?

"Sadly, while I truly enjoy teaching," Severus lied. "I did want more money. Teaching Defense is far more hazardous than teaching Potions, especially considering that most teachers barely survive the year with all their limbs and sanity intact. The Head Master assured me that I would receive the Defense per diem rate. It failed to materialize, and after repeated requests for what was legally mine were not so politely rebuffed, I quit. I had hoped to stay until the beginning of term to ensure a smooth transition to the werewolf instructor, but once I had resigned, I was asked to leave."There was a grumble of protests, numerous aspersions were cast against Dumbledore and his anti-Slytherin bias along with rude comments about having a werewolf teach Defense, and Severus shook his head.

"Do not blame the Head Master, I should have stayed anyway to say goodbye to you."

The questions continued, mainly asking what his plans were now, and he truthfully answered that everything was up in the air. The reason why he was currently at Hogwarts was to wrap up a few loose ends, and he had truly wanted to say goodbye to his students.

Then Gregory Goyle raised one hand, and Severus barely managed to keep his composure when he called on him.

_He was face down in the dirt of his cell; Albus' hands were pressing down…  
_  
"Yes?" Snaple slowly drawled when he managed to shake off his flashback.

"What happened to your left arm?" Goyle not so gently questioned.

There was a loud hullabaloo when everyone turned to stare at him and realized that his left sleeve was empty.

"I decided to take a vacation since I didn't need to worry about preparing for the new school year. I went on a Terrortour," he easily lied. "Not all of me came back. When the Terrortours warn you that you might not come back with the same number of limbs as you started the cruise on, I should have believed them."

There were many more comments, many of a sympathetic nature and Severus was horrified to realize that Pansy Parkinson was in tears. What in the name of Merlin's bloody scrote happened to his students while he was gone? If he didn't know the bloody rug rats as well as he did, he'd swear that they actually cared about him.

Fortunately, Severus wasn't fooled in the slightest, but he was surprised when a second year asked Horace if they'd be allowed to say a personal goodbye when they were dismissed.

"Well, naturally, yes!" Horace agreed, while Severus attempted to find an easy way to get himself out of this mess. "You'll each get a chance to talk with Severus and then you can leave."

* * *

His nerves grew more and more shot as the greeting line progressed, as Horace had stepped out to give him some privacy with his former students. Really, had it been necessary for a weeping Millicent Bulstrode to hug and kiss him? Yes, he had always felt some compassion for Millicent as the poor girl looked like his mum, but really! Once Millicent had done that, then all the Slytherin women felt obligated to hug him. Pansy Parkinson even snuck in three kisses and two hugs. 

Then Gregory Goyle, the thug, walked up to him. Severus tried to prevent from his uncontrollable panic from overwhelming him by imaging that he was Avada Kedavraing Goyle the gorilla. It was a pleasant daydream, Severus had to admit.

"Mr. Goyle," Severus intoned. "Stay behind. We have much to discuss and I have a personal message for your father that I wish you to deliver to him."

_I need to keep it together, need to keep you safe, my sprog._

And so Severus pulled out the various Death Eaters' spawn, and he smiled at them when it was just the six of them. Draco, Gregory and Vincent Crabbe were the most uneasy, as they _**knew**_. They kept staring at his empty sleeve, at his gut and at the wand that sitting in his lap. The other three students stared blankly at each other, plainly wondering why they had been kept behind. Severus quickly spoke to them and then dismissed them, but not before giving a personal message to McNair to give to his father, before turning his malevolent eyes on the threesome.

"I presume that your parents have been telling you what happened to me," Severus intoned in his most intimidating way. "No doubt they told you the most… interesting… stories including me being magicless."

With a quick gesture, he straightened the tables and benches in the Great Hall. For good measure, he had one bench slam into their calves, forcing them to sit. The magic in his wand was weakening, but the three shell shocked boys didn't notice.

"You might have heard these most distressing rumors regarding recent incidents involving me," Severus paused and then put his hand on his flat stomach. "As you three are well aware, I am a Potions Master and quite familiar with all abortifacients currently known. If I hear any false rumors relating to recent events circulating through these hallowed halls, I will know that it was one of you three. I promise you three that you will not survive the hour even though I may not be in Hogwarts. Be completely assured that I will know if one of you decides to be a rumormonger. Is that completely understood?"

The three of them babbled assurances. The three of them were quite intent on reassuring him that they wouldn't even think of spreading such malicious falsehoods. He let them panic for a bit, and then he dismissed the three of them, deliberately ignoring Draco, who seemed determined to talk to him.

That left him alone in the Great Hall, and Severus was alarmed to realize that he was shaking. He needed to settle his nerves before Horace returned. He desired to be the very picture of complete serenity before his return back to the Infirmary, else Poppy would curtail his trips out of his sickroom. A man did get tired of staring at the same four walls and inanely talking to the tadpole in his gut.

To his stunned disbelief, he saw the Head Master materialize in the Great Hall. Damn it, he should have asked Horace to check for Disillusionment Charms!

"How much did you see?" Severus attempted to pull up enough energy to be royally angry, but he lacked the strength. Instead, he sounded like a mewling kitten. "Have I no right to privacy from you?"

"Everything. I wondered why Horace was calling a House meeting, and I believed that your reappearance might be the subject of the meeting. Since you decided not to confide in me, I decided to spy. After all, your well spun tales would fall apart if I said the incorrect thing to the wrong person. As for your claims to privacy, as the father, I do have the right to be made aware of what actions you may take that may affect her. Severus, your desire to have a special meeting with Goyle, Crabbe and Malfoy nearly caused me to intervene."

Albus' blue eyes were not twinkling; instead they were the deep blue of the sea.

"You were able to easily fool those three. Do you believe that you would get off so easily if you spoke to their fathers? For all intents and purposes, you just issued a challenge to a duel to McNair, Severus? What were you **_thinking_**?"

Severus didn't answer, instead he was still staring at Albus' sea blue eyes, feeling the waves overwhelm him. He was drowning and all he needed to do was stop struggling. It would be easier then, and he closed his eyes, letting the warm waters cover his head…

"Severus, I wish you to talk to me," Albus gently insisted.

When Severus shook his head, Albus hissed his disapproval. Carefully, he put his hands on Severus' face and he forced Snape to look into his eyes.

"If you can't give voice to your concern, will you enter my mind to speak freely? Severus, I give you permission to enter…"

Severus was falling, falling, falling and to his surprise, someone grabbed him before he hit the ground. He blinked, and he found himself on a sandy beach, and an auburn haired man with a long beard of a matching hue was supporting him. His blue eyes were familiar, as was the badly set broken nose, plus only one man would dare to wear that particular color combination.

"Head Master?" Severus weakly protested at this latest assault. "What have you done?"

"I let you into my mind willingly, so you're seeing me as I see myself," Albus explained. "I'm not sure about the location though. Were you thinking of the sea? I didn't know that you enjoyed the beach."

Severus said nothing, as he was busy inspecting himself. Torn, ratty black clothes. A shirt that strained against a rather noticeable bulge in his middle that did not yet exist in real life and his thin right arm was covered in bruises and healing cuts. The stub of his left arm still oozed dark blood. He managed to stand unsupported, and then he turned away, stumbling toward the water.

Reaching the water's edge, Snape gaped at the figure in the water, and the scarecrow of a man stared back at him with haunted eyes. His lank, greasy hair was black with heavy streaks of grey, and his exposed skin was covered in bruises, cuts and scars in various stages of healing.

"It's how you mentally see yourself, Severus," the youthful Albus explained. "You've been through a rather traumatic experience, and you're feeling battered."

Albus put his hand on Severus' shoulder, and then with his other hand, he began to gently stroke Severus' cheek. The Head Master's touch made him recoil, as he could… _sense_… Albus' emotions. A deep concern for Severus combined with a deep sadness as though the Head Master had failed him.

"You'll heal in time, Severus. This I promise you. But you need to cease taking such needless risks, Severus. I thought you wanted the child? Yet, your actions deem otherwise."

The Head Master's voice was full of compassion yet there was the faintest taste of paternal disapproval.

"The child," Severus weakly protested, damning himself for not pushing Albus' hand away. Even in his mental state, he craved any bit of kindness that the Head Master might bestow on him. "It's yours also as you are well aware."

"I am well aware of that fact, Severus," Albus retorted. His voice was soft, and free from censure, but still Severus shivered as he sensed Albus' growing exasperation over what a stubborn git Severus was.

"You call it 'the child', 'her' or 'it'," Severus whispered. "Never have you called it, 'my child' or 'our daughter'."

"It's nearly impossible for me to bond with her… _**our**_ daughter as you insist on pushing me away. Whenever I try to talk to you, you put up all these barricades," Albus softly explained.

Albus continued to stroke Severus' cheek, and then after a long moment in which Severus refused to speak, Albus gently prompted him.

"Why are you putting up all these barricades, Severus? I wish to know."

Albus' blue eyes were peering into his soul, and Severus was weakening.

_Speak to me, Severus. Let us be truly honest with one another without fear of reprisal, or Minerva swooping in_ _to protect you from me_. _ How do you expect me to assist you if you won't let me know what help you need?  
_  
The Head Master's voice was in his head… was nothing sacred?

"Tell me, Severus, I won't be angry. I promise," Albus whispered.

Severus knew full well how Albus' guarantee to a Slytherin worked. Albus would honor them, except if a Gryffindor was involved. Then to hell with the Slytherin, to hell with any vow Albus might have made. His mind was racing, struggling to find an acceptable answer that might be believed, as Severus wasn't foolish enough to voice his concerns to Albus.

_Your only trust in me, Severus, is that I'll break my promise to you?_

_Yes…_

_Is that why you've been busy putting up obstacles, Severus?_

He was drowning in Albus' blue eyes, and the truth was being dragged from his unwilling lips and his mind which Albus was reading as easily as an open book.

"I have to protect her from you," was his reluctant explanation.

He pulled away from a surprised Albus, and then the Slytherin crouched, attempting to physically shield his head and his belly from Albus' imminent attack. When Albus touched him, he flinched away, but Albus began to gently stroke his dirty, lank hair.

_I so wish that I was clean for you, Head Master, but even in my thoughts; I know that I am soiled._

_Never soiled, I'll never see you as tainted, Severus.  
_  
"Protect her from me?" Albus gently questioned while he continued to stroke Severus' hair. "Why do you believe that you need to protect our child from me?"

"You'll break her heart," was Severus' simple answer. He flinched again, waiting for the blow to fall, for the kick to land, and still Albus continued to caress his hair.

This was what he feared most, that the Head Master would weaken him and hoodwink him into trusting him and then Albus' abject cruelty would begin. He was back in his cell… remembering…

"_Oh my dear, dear boy," Albus whispered. "Let me comfort you. Everything will be alright, Severus. Remember Severus, how many times have I assured you that I love you and our baby? How could I not care for a child that we created in our love?"_

_Without so much as a sound, he rolled on his belly, and in that same gesture, he pulled up his robes, exposing his smooth, shapely buttocks. He even positioned himself so that it would be easier for Albus to mount him. Albus was a bit arthritic in his hips, and not as limber as a younger man._

"_No, no, Severus. Never like that. Never," the fake Albus softly crooned. "Especially not now while you're carrying."_

_Carefully, he covered the boy with his robe, allowing himself the chance to slowly caress the boy's lovely buttocks, then rolled him over before he assisted him in sitting next to him. The faux Albus pushed Severus' long, dirty hair out of his face, and Albus began to cover his faces with soft kisses. Instead of murmuring a protest, or shying away from Albus' kisses, a defeated Severus accepted Albus' touch without a qualm. No, instead the boy was leaning into the kisses, as though he was in need of solace._

"_I love you, Severus." Albus assured him. "I'd do anything for you, you know that."_

"_Will you… protect… us?" Severus whispered. "I promise that I'll be good. Just please…protect us from Albus..."_

_"I will, my dear boy," Albus promised._

_He had begged, and he had even sniveled for Albus not to harm him, yet Albus had relished in hurting him. _

"You don't have to worry about me hitting you, Severus. Nor will I will use magic against you or take you by force. I want you to tell me the truth, and I will let you have your say. But why do you believe that I'll break her heart? What do you mean by that, Severus?"

"She'll love you, love you so much, and you won't love her back… It will utterly break her heart when she realizes the unhappy truth that her father doesn't love her." Severus admitted that slowly.

_I know what it's like to yearn for your parents' love, Head Master. I can not inflict that ceaseless agony on to her._

_You believe me incapable of loving our child?_

_Yes, Head Master. _

"Why do believe that?" The Head Master's voice was still soft.

"Because she'll be half-Slytherin, Head Master. Your bias towards the Gryffindor House is well known, as is your strong dislike for anything that tastes of Slytherins. You give your love freely to Gryffindors, never noticing that other, lesser souls might crave it." Severus whispered his confession, and waited for the Head Master to lose his temper as the Head Master had stopped stroking his hair.

To Severus' surprise, the Head Master kneeled next to him, and he put both hands on Severus' face.

"Look at me, Severus, and know that I speak the truth to you. You have confessed to having a crush on me when you were a student and I have assured you that I would never take sexual advantage of a student. I have never, ever done that, Severus. The very thought is horrific to me," Albus reminded him.

"I didn't want sex when I was a student, Head Master; all I ever wanted was a few moments of kindness from you. A simple congratulation from you when I received Top Marks would have been enough. You couldn't be bothered as you were too busy consoling the second place Gryffindor," Severus explained.

The Head Master's blue eyes were confused, obviously uncertain why Severus was mentioning this now.

_I struggled so hard for those marks, as I wanted your approval, Head Master! I craved it, I needed it, and you never gave it to me because I was a dirty, little Slytherin. All I ever wanted someone to care about me, damn it. My parents didn't, you couldn't be bothered… that just left the Death Eaters. They thought I was smart, they thought I had potential. No one else ever looked at me and saw that I possessed anything worthwhile!_

He spat that, and Albus flinched. Severus waited for Albus to laugh, to deride and chastise him for his gall to actually blame Albus for him turning to the Death Eaters. Instead, Albus nodded his head, and then spoke in a very gentle tone. "So is that the reason why you're keeping the baby, Severus? So you can have living, breathing proof that I actually care for you?"

_**Care**_, not _**cared**_. A stunned Severus attempted to think of a proper response to that, when Albus shook his head.

_My comment was truly uncalled for, Severus. The reasons why you're keeping it are unimportant. All that matters is that you let me help you. I spoke to you of putting our Banns in the Daily Prophet. Have you thought further on the matter?_

The Head Master began to stroke Severus' cheeks with his thumbs and he spoke softly as though to a frightened child.

"You need protection, Severus. The best way I can keep you and our daughter safe is by bonding you. It won't be so bad, Severus. You'll be able to rest and heal. Also, you'll get your hands on most of my library, except I'll have warded the Dark Arts books from you."

The gentle amusement in the Head Master's voice was a vicious slap to his face, and Severus flinched.

"Don't you trust me with them, Head Master?" Severus whispered.

"No, no, no…. that's not the reason. The experts warn pregnant witches to stay away from Dark Arts books due to fears of the fetus being adversely affected. I'll set up your quarters as you desire, as I know that you do not want to share my bed."

Severus tried to hide his disappointment. Yes, he could barely stomach the Head MAster touching him, but to be bonded with the Head Master, to be so intimately connected with him while knowing that no matter how much he desired it, he'd never again share the Head Master's bed….

He was unsuccessful in hiding his longing from the Head Master, as Albus' blue eyes widened in disbelief.

"Bloody hell, Severus. You don't actually… want…" Albus was dumbfounded.

A shamed Severus nodded his head once. To his surprise, Albus embraced him.

"Shh… shh… It will be alright. You honor me, lad, far more than I deserve. I'll woo and court you, take my time until you feel comfortable again. I told you that I didn't merit such that precious gift you gave me on Christmas night. This time, I'll make it right for you."

"P-p-p-romise?" Severus whispered. His face flushed crimson as he stuttered like a first year.

Merlin's cauldron, he knew full well how the Head Master was, yet he still yearned to believe that the Head Master actually cared for him.

_Your Auntie Minnie would be throwing her hands up in absolute disgust with me._ _She warns me over and over again, and yet I come crawling back to him, like a kicked lapdog creeps back to his master, hoping for kindness. But I need to protect you. Your father can protect us._

_Aunt Minnie? My word, Severus, Minerva is rather protective of those she loves and sometimes her nurturing nature can make her rather caustic. If she is unhappy with our decisions, I will let her blister her tongue on me. I'll keep you and our child safe from friends and foes alike. No one will hurt my Severus and our child ever, ever again._

That was thought with all the possessiveness of a lion.

_Your Severus? I'm … your … Severus?_

_You will always be __**my**__ Severus, forever and ever._

"I'd promise you, Severus, swear any vow that you desire, but I understand that you don't trust me," Albus stated. "After everything you've been through, I understand why you don't believe me. It will take time for you to learn to trust me again. Will you let me bond you?"

Having no real choice in the matter, an exhausted Severus nodded his head.

He was still nodding his head when he abruptly returned back to the Great Hall. Minerva had one hand on his shoulder and one hand on Albus' shoulder. The witch was shaking Albus furiously, as it appeared that she was quite close to throttling him.

"Horace…" the witch spat. "You leave him alone for two minutes, and Albus manages to sneak in. Get out of the Great Hall, Horace. I'll deal with you _**later**_."

While Horace murmured a weak defense as he ran for safety, Minerva turned towards Severus and she gently asked, "Are you alright?"

He nodded his head, and then Minerva asked the Head Master the same question. Her tone was not quite as gentle as the one she used with Severus, and in fact, could be best described as astringent.

"I'm fine, just fine, Minerva. Severus? Shall we let Minerva be first to know the good news?" Albus then smiled at Minerva.

The witch narrowed her green eyes, and stared fiercely at the smiling Albus. She knew from personal experience that specific smile meant nothing good.

"What did you do to him, you daft old bugger?" Minerva snapped, her temper overriding her good manners.

"Severus? Care to tell Auntie Minnie the good news?" Albus' smile grew broader as Minerva's eyes narrowed still further as she mouthed, '_Auntie Minnie_'.

"I've agreed," Severus whispered.

The witch turned towards him, and she sighed.

"You've agreed? To what?" Minerva softly questioned, though it was obvious that she knew the answer.

"We're to be Bonded, Minerva. Will you be my Best Maid?" Severus plaintively questioned. His composure was cracking, his knees were trembling, and Severus knew that he was mere moments from have a complete mental meltdown.

"Lad, you're paler than a sheet. Let me Floo you back to the Infirmary, Severus, and put you to bed. Albus, I'll meet you in your quarters in thirty minutes to discuss in detail this latest scheme of yours."

"Yes, Minerva, we need to pick out a suitable dress color for you to wear as Best Maid. Neither Severus or I share your fondness for tartan," the Head Master quipped.

Regally, Minerva ignored him, as she was half dragging, half carrying a shaking Severus to the fire place.

"Come on, Severus. You needed the Draught of Peace ten minutes ago or I'm not Auntie Minnie," Minerva gently jested.


	14. Chapter 14

D/C # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. not my characters that I'm abusing.

A/N # 1 - Thanks to Linze for her help.

Synopsis: Albus has convinced Severus to Bond him. Minerva and Albus are heading toward an argument of epic proportions over his methods that will reveal that not all the wounds of their past have healed, and that one in fact, has festered.

* * *

"Draught of Peace, Poppy," Minerva curtly ordered, without so much the courtesy of a hello, as the witch manhandled the shaking Severus towards his sickroom. 

"The potion is in his room," Poppy explained. "Horace stopped by, explained everything that happened, and is now in hiding for his life. Min, make sure that Severus eats first..."

Minerva failed to hear the rest of Poppy's warnings, as she was intent on obtaining her goal; getting Severus into his room before he had his breakdown. Thanks to some miracle, she managed to get the poor boy into his room, and the door closed behind them before his fraying hold on his composure snapped.

"Here," she brusquely ordered, as she pushed the potion at him. "Drink."

"I shouldn't have this on an empty stomach," he objected, even as he took the bottle in his hand. "Is there anything to eat?"

"Clotted cream…" Minerva began duly rattled off the inventory of what the House Elves had left on the table for him.

"Merlin's scrote, no, I don't like clotted cream at the best of times… and the way my stomach is churning? I don't think I could keep it down, so no to that." Severus acidly protested. "Anything with Horseradish? Wasabi? The demanding sprog is in the mood for something spicy."

Being a bit of a purist, Minerva was secretly dismayed to discover several tea sandwiches that had been liberally slathered with wasabi, but she placed them on a plate before she handed it to Severus. He inhaled a few of the bite sized sandwiches, and then put the plate down before he quickly quaffed the potion with a sour look.

"I could make it taste better. It's not necessary for it to taste like old woolen socks," his professional pride demanded him to unequivocally state.

"Would you like me to help you change for bed?" Minerva gently questioned, refusing to show her amusement over his comments about the Draught of Peace. After all the wasabi Severus had just inhaled, it was amazing his taste buds were still operational.

"Don't you have a command performance in the Head Master's quarters in a few minutes?" Severus softly quipped, his words already slurred from the potion.

"Through my many decades of teaching, I have found that a delayed punishment will often chastise the miscreants far more effectively than I can due to the power of a guilty conscience. He can stew and wait for the divine wrath of Minerva McGonagall," Minerva assured him. "I'm far more concerned about you."

"I had no real choice," Severus softly protested. "Please don't be angry with me. I had no real choice."

The desperation in Severus' voice chilled her, and she knew that she had to reassure him.

"You misunderstand, lad. I'm not angry with you. Far from it, Severus, I'm just concerned. In his eagerness to fix this situation and make everything better for you, Albus is overpowering you with the strength of his personality because he believes that he knows best. You're exhausted and unable to defend yourself, Severus. I can not be angry with you because you're too traumatized to deal with Hurricane Albus," Minerva assured him.

"Oh would that I had only fallen in love with you," Severus softly confessed. "Why didn't I?"

Severus' shoulders were slumped, and he looked bereft.

"I don't have a penis," was her brisk retort. She added a good amount of tartness to her tone, and was rewarded with a slight smile from Severus. Walking over to the wardrobe, she pulled out his dressing gown and a long night shirt.

"There are spells to fix that little problem," he dryly suggested. "I know of several."

"If I was supposed to be a metamorphagus, I would have been born with the gift," she rejoined. "I am not spell adding any additional parts to my body."

He was having problems with his buttons, but knowing how proud Severus was, she postponed offering her assistance.

"Well, having a penis isn't such a wonderful thing. They're ugly, for one thing, tend to be extremely messy and they do all your thinking for you," he sagely assured her. "Mine has been nothing but trouble."

The witch sat next to him on the bed, and when Severus nodded his head, she began to unbutton his frock coat.

"I never thought yours was ugly. I thought it was rather lovely in fact," Minerva assured him. "Wonderfully sized and delightfully responsive. It was a real ego boost to a mature witch like me as it enthusiastically displayed a keen interest to repeatedly shag me senseless."

That wry comment earned another fleeting smile from the now blushing Slytherin.

"Damn thing still has that obscene fixation on the Head Master," the Slytherin admitted. "Well, it got what it wanted in spades, and it's still begging for more. What a mindless piece of flesh it is…"

He shivered, and Minerva reached for his hand.

"'Tis not a bad thing, Sev," she gently assured him. "There's no shame in wishing to be close to someone."

"I wish… he'd stop buying things for me," the Slytherin's voice was an almost inaudible whisper when he confessed that to her.

"It's Albus' way of supporting you through this," Minerva explained. "Especially since Poppy barred him from the Infirmary."

The Slytherin shivered once more, and confessed, "I wished he'd stop. I feel like I'm being… groomed."

That was an odd statement, and Minerva waited for Severus to say more. When he said nothing, she decided it was necessary to prompt him.

"By grooming, you mean, in the sense of child grooming?" Deliberately, she kept her voice free from nuance.

As a teacher, Minerva was far too familiar for her comfort with the sexually abused children that arrived at Hogwarts. An adult could so easily groom a confused child, convince them of their love and then twist their bond into something dark and sexual. To her horror, Severus nodded his head.

"They did things to me…," Severus admitted. "Each Albus relished in inflicting different things to me… I know here…" He pointed to his head before he continued. "… That it wasn't the Head Master… but in my heart is having difficulties accepting that simple truth."

"Did an Albus groom you?" Minerva prompted after a long silence.

The boy hid his face in his long hair which was answer enough to the perceptive witch.

"The Albuses gave me potions to drink, and I was so… confused. Sometimes, I thought I was a student… and the Head Master had taken an interest in me. I was so happy because Albus kept telling me how smart I was and how I needed guidance to reach my full potential. He offered to mentor me, me a dirty, shabby little Slytherin. He said that we had a great deal in common, and then he'd bring me to his chambers late at night so we could talk…"

He seemed surprised that he was still clutching her hand. Deliberately, she placed her other hand on top, and her action seemed to reassure him.

"Albus knew I was poor, so he'd slip me his spare change, so on Hogsmeade's Weekends, I could buy something. He claimed that he gave me the money because he knew what it was like to be knutless on a Hogsmeade's Weekend. Like I said, I know in my head, Minerva, that none of this ever happened, but I can still remember anxiously standing in Honeyduke's and spending all of it on something that I prayed that he would like."

This time, she didn't push him to speak. If Severus wanted to speak, he would, and she wouldn't press the issue.

"I was always a social outcast during my school years. Yet this Albus knew that I liked boys, and he assured me that it was perfectly normal. You have to understand, I've always known my preference… and when I was a student, I believed that my desire was so damn bent and pervy..."

"It's not," Minerva insisted.

"It felt so damn good to have someone know that I was queer, and accept me for being queer, and for the Head Master to be so understanding about my perversion…. Albus would bring me to his quarters just about every night, so we could talk. Talking led to snuggling, which in turn led to snogging and then shagging. Our shagging would hurt so terribly…. But I wouldn't dare tell him because he enjoyed it so. I took the pain willingly, because I believed that he truly cared for me..."

Longer silence, and Severus asked in a very self-conscious tone, "When you're busy putting the fear of Minerva into him, would you ask him to please cease and desist on the pressies? No more presents, no more please. I just don't want to owe him…"

"If he asks me the reason why you don't want his gifts, what should I tell him?"

Severus' dark eyes were haunted when he looked at her.

"Just tell him, that I'm knackered… and I'm utterly overwhelmed…" Severus' voice broke, and then he painfully continued, "Utterly overwhelmed by his generosity. If that fails to sway him, tell him the truth."

"Why did you agree to Bond him?" Minerva questioned. "Do you really feel that you had no other choice?"

A single nod of his head was his response.

"I would have Bonded you," the witch informed him. "In fact, I am quite willing to do so."

"I wouldn't have allowed it," Severus' protest was oddly intense. "I can't let you Bond me. I need you… to keep an eye on the sprog after she's born. Min, ask me no more, please, I'm utterly exhausted… please… just help me undress, so I can sleep."

She agreed, and helped him unbutton his shirt. He held his opened shirt carefully, shielding his body from her sight.

"Would you mind not looking?" He pleaded. "I'm not looking particularly trim right now… not that my body was previously anything… of which to be proud… But now I've got man boobs and a gut…"

Minerva immediately closed her eyes, and sincerely promised that she wouldn't look. After a long period of time, Severus gave permission for her to open her eyes, as he needed help straightening his night shirt. Carefully, she assisted him, and then held out the silk dressing gown so he could put it on.

"The night shirt is a present from the Head Master," he informed her. "He insists on clothing his child's incubator in nothing less than the very best."

Instead of commenting, she tucked him into bed, and she kissed him on his forehead.

"Stay?" Severus requested. "I know you have other far more exciting plans, but I'd like you to stay, at least until I fall asleep."

"There's nothing I'd rather do," she assured him.

"I hate being like this," he admitted. "I'm trying to keep everything together, and it's unraveling… I'm so weak and sniveling. I loathe having to hide behind you for protection."

"Shhh…" she whispered. "Close your eyes, and fall asleep."

"Min, you know… I worry about being a parent. I have no concept what love truly is…"

"Love is putting someone else's needs before your own and doing everything you can you to make the best for them out of whatever hand you've been dealt," Minerva assured him. "So, yes, your wee bairn is loved."

His only response was a snort of disgust, but Minerva knew him well enough to know that he was touched and that her answer had reassured him.

* * *

"I was fully expecting you here an hour or so ago to soundly berate me," Albus stated. His blue eyes were twinkling, as though he was amused. 

"Severus needed me," Minerva retorted. "It was far more important that I spend the time with him, rather than scold an obstinate wizard who is unwavering in his sincerest desire to cock up everything. Will you listen to what I have to say, Albus? Or will I be reduced to a screaming harridan?"

"I find your normal conversational tone to be far more melodious than those rare moments when you shriek like a banshee," Albus dryly admitted. "But by all means, please use whatever tone you feel best suits this conversation."

"Stop sending the boy presents, Albus. He wishes you to immediately cease," Minerva firmly declared. "Your generosity is overwhelming him."

"You're complaining about my kindness? He needs clothes that will match his needs, Min. There's no way his left arm can fit in a regular sleeve. After the edema and swelling has decreased, he can wear regular clothes, but not now. What would you suggest? I let him wear rags? Perhaps Poppy can rip off the left sleeve of his normal apparel?"

"You're putting pressure on Severus, as he can not help but believe that you're grooming him," retorted Minerva.

"Is it a crime to want to give him nice clothes? He spends all his money on providing care for his mother, and neglects himself. It's been years since he bought himself a decent coat. So yes, I am guilty of grooming him," snapped Albus. "To give Severus decent, warm clothes is not a criminal act! I fail to see otherwise."

For a moment, Minerva closed her eyes and prayed to whatever deity that might be listening for patience. Albus Dumbledore was far too innocent in some matters and far too jaded in others.

"Albus, that's not the type of grooming I meant. When an adult is interested in sexually abusing a child, he buys the child's trust. Books, clothes, candy… in turn it leads to _**more**_, Albus. After what he's endured, can you not understand his concern?"

Her blunt explanation to Albus made the mage recoil in revulsion. For a moment, Albus looked ancient and defeated, and then his anger bubbled forth.

"That's utterly disgusting, Minerva. Why do you believe the worst of me? Severus needs assistance. I can provide the help he needs, why do you _**insist**_ on fighting me every step of the way?"

How he could be so unbelievably dense and refuse to see the truth, Minerva wondered.

"Because Albus, you're overwhelming the boy by sheer force of will. They physically raped him, Albus, by overpowering him by physical and magical means. What you're doing now is akin to emotional rape, as you're _**crushing**_ his shattered soul."

She was blunter than she would have preferred and Albus reacted much as she feared he would.

"You go too far, Minerva McGonagall." Albus' voice was brittle as ice. "Perhaps one might say that your past experiences are influencing you and subconsciously…"

"I've lived what he's gone through, Albus! I've _**never**_ denied it!"

She didn't want to lose her composure, but what the hell was Albus implying?

"You are projecting the fact that I failed you onto this situation with Severus. You fear that I will not be up to the challenge to help him, like I was with you. I understand your reservations about my inability to handle this situation, but I assure you that I have learned from my mistakes with you and my family. He was hurt because of me, and I will do whatever necessary to heal him. I swear on my soul and name, I will _**NOT **_make those same errors again!"

For a moment, Minerva was at a complete loss of words. It was a remarkable feeling for the normally unflusterable witch. This argument was no longer merely about Severus, but it had turned darker and more painful, as the ghosts of Albus' past were now being exhumed and put on public display.

"_**What**_? You believe that you failed me?" Minerva finally asked.

"I failed you because you didn't believe that I loved you. I _**loved**_ you so much, Minerva, and I couldn't convince you of that simple, basic fact. Yes, I sincerely grieved when you and I couldn't have a child together, but then, instead of our mutual sadness drawing us closer, you just shut me out of your life. You wouldn't talk to me about how you felt, instead you just left!"

Their breakup had occurred over twenty years ago! Yet Albus still sounded distressed!

"I also didn't protect Ariana, I should have been there when those boys attacked her. I was off, reading no doubt, instead of keeping a brotherly eye on her. I completely failed her by not being there for her. I could have stopped those boys, prevented my father from harming them… I should have tried harder to convince my parents that Ariana needed to be sent to St. Mungo's for treatment. No, they thought they could give her better care at home as they did not want to institutionalize her. In time, Ariana accidentally killed my mother because her magic was completely unmanageable and uncontrollable!"

"Albus…" Minerva attempted to insert her opinion into the conversation, but Albus had a full head of steam, and he wasn't stopping.

"You and Aberforth blamed me for not caring enough about my responsibilities, and rightly so! I will go to my grave with your eternal condemnation ringing in my ears. But now you harass and condemn me for caring too much. The boy has nothing, Minerva. In your anger at me for failing you, you'd willingly let the boy be dressed in _**rags**_. Stop using him to get back at me, Minerva!" Albus' voice was raw.

"Albus… I'm doing no such thing," protested Minerva. "I'm trying to help him, not spite you!"

"He needs new clothes, therefore I will supply them. Anything he wants, I_** will**_ make available for him. You and that damnable overly protective Poppy have decided that I'm the enemy in this situation…flatly refusing my aid, not allowing me the courtesy of knowing what treatment he is being given and yet, I will still provide for him. I may have to guess at the boy's needs, but he will rest assured in the knowledge that I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore will ensure that he and the child… _our child_… will not want for anything! No matter howyou and Poppy try to prevent it."

If the witch thought she was gobsmacked before, this latest admission from Albus stilled her tongue still further.

"Are you implying that I'm being _**vindictive**_? That I'm letting what happened between us adversely affect Severus? Are you utterly barmy?" Minerva finally gasped.

"No, not vindictive, Minerva. I would never call you that," the Head Master said softly. "If you inferred that from what I said, please forgive me. I'm old and tired, and I lack a silver tongue. When you came to me, and wanted me to be your first lover after what happened… I was so humbled by your trust in me… did you ever realize that? It meant so much to me that you would trust me with something so special. Why do you think I was so hesitant at first? Because I knew that I'm not comfortable sharing my emotions with others, and that you'd need sincere reassurance to rebuild your self-confidence. After I had misjudged Gellert so badly, I thought it better not to risk it...But you persevered.. Merlin's beard, Minerva, you were so beautiful that night...that I agreed. I shouldn't have... but I strove so hard to be everything you wanted… but I wasn't…I failed you… by not being demonstrative enough… "

"That wasn't the reason, Albus," the witch protested. "Our relationship had run its course…"

It was the truth, and yet it wasn't the full truth.

"I wouldn't know… you never told me… so all these years, I believed that it was my inability to properly express my deep affection for you. I poured my heart out to you to assure you that it didn't matter to me that you were barren, and your only response? You just completely shut me out of your life. It took years before we were comfortably friends again, Minerva."

Her head was throbbing, and she didn't want to admit to anyone, especially herself, what truth there was in Albus' words.

"Albus, it's not that. You're coming on entirely too strong for him. He's utterly terrified of you. Severus compares you to the sea…" she explained, hoping that he'd understand.

Her tart comment caused a flinching Albus to cryptically whisper, "That explains the beach."

"Yes, for Severus, you are the sea crashing down mercilessly on the shores. He's struggling for all he's worth to tread water right now, Albus. His head is barely above water and he fears that he'll drown when the next waves overwhelms him."

"What am I supposed to do? He claims that I didn't do enough for him when he was a student and you counsel me that it's for the best if I just let him flounder? Won't that be just another example of my alleged uncaring nature? Will the court of Poppy and Minerva not again convict me in absentia of being callous and insensitive?"

"You need to back off, Albus. Let the boy breath. Your noble desire to protect him by wrapping him up tightly in gossamer silk will only suffocate him. Please, for the love of everything magical, give him space," she sincerely pleaded.

"I'll take your advice under consideration," Albus stated softly. "But if he needs anything… anything at all, I expect you to inform me so I can provide it."

"Agreed," Minerva then held out her hand in an apologetic gesture.

Albus just stared at her hand and sadly shook his head.

"No one, not even Aberforth, has the Merlin given ability to hurt me as much as you can, Miss McGonagall. You're dismissed." His voice was crisp, and his blue eyes weren't twinkling, which meant that Albus was in a bad way.

Merlin's scrote, she couldn't leave a despondent Albus like this, not with their friendship so badly stressed and strained. She really did love Albus, not with the overwhelming passion she once experienced for him, but a gentle, caring love born of time, experience and understanding.

Yet, as well as she thought she knew Albus, she never would have surmised the heavy load of guilt he carried, and how much was due to her.

"Dismissed? I thought we would move on to the next part of our agenda. I believe that we were discussing the color of my dress as Severus' Best Maid," she reminded him in what she hoped was a light tone. "You're not fond of tartan, I seem to recollect, while I don't particularly care for spangles and beads. I hope that we can come to a reasonable compromise."

Albus' tone was crisp as he stated, "Cancel your appointment with the dressmaker, there will be no Bonding."

What the hell? He had gotten Severus to agree to the Bonding, and now he had decided to cancel it? Those were Minerva's stunned thoughts.

Albus looked at the stunned disbelief on her face, and he sighed. "To complete the Bonding with an unwilling, terrified partner? Now that, Miss McGonagall, would be a psychic rape. Now, for the second time, I will advise you that you're dismissed. I need to research another way to keep Severus alive long enough for our daughter to be viable outside the womb. Then I think I will go to bed early as I'm teaching Filius' classes for tomorrow. I'm still quite exhausted from Friday's escapade. Hard to believe, isn't it? That it's only late Sunday afternoon?"

She turned to leave the room but before she left the Head Master's office, she paused.

"I'm sorry that for all these years I let you believe that our break up was your fault," she whispered, hoping that Albus heard her sincerity. "If I had thought that was how you interpreted what happened between us, Albus... I thought you understood that it was my decision, and that you weren't to blame."

"For the last time, you're dismissed, Miss McGonagall," was his only response, but her eyes filled with tears while she opened the door to the spiral staircase as she could sense his pain.

"Fawkes? Would you mind rousing an old friend? I could use a bit of cheer," Albus quietly asked his familiar, just as the door was closing.

The Phoenix began to joyfully trill, just as the door closed behind Minerva, leaving her alone surrounded by cold stone and her own concerns.


	15. Chapter 15

D/C # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. not my characters that I'm abusing.

A/N # 1 - Thanks to Linze and Excessively Perky for ideas and suggestions.

* * *

Fawkes trilled for a bit, until his wizard was emotionally calmer. Dumbledore was so calm and emotionally drained, in fact, that Albus soon fell deeply asleep. It was only natural that he would dream of Severus and Minerva. 

_His itinerary for the day was quite full, meetings at the Ministry, a meeting with Severus and Minerva to discuss next year's course work, plus still more meetings! It was enough to make Albus want to tell the entire universe to bugger off! _

_His hiss of disapproval caught Severus' ear. The younger man hesitantly spoke, "Is there a problem, Head Master?"_

_Head Master! The boy constantly called him Head Master as though he had forgotten that Albus possessed a real name, and Albus' temper briefly flared._

_"Albus. My name is Albus. For what is hopefully the last time, I will once more explain to you, that I will not answer to the term Head Master spoken by you in our private quarters, Severus! Why are you wasting your energy on projecting a Glamour here? You need to conserve your strength, Severus." _

_Severus murmured a soft agreement in response to Albus' curt tone, and he dropped the Glamour. His dark hair became heavily laced strands of gray and white, his healthy face grew peaked and gaunt, and his flat belly swelled __noticeably__. To Albus' revulsion which was directed inwards as it was his fault, he realized that his partner was trembling due to his sharp tone._

"_Severus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be short with you. You should had stayed in bed and rested," Albus stated. In a softer tone, he said, "You look exhausted. Go back to bed, Severus."_

_"I thought it might be… nice… to have breakfast together," Severus hesitantly admitted. "I didn't realize that you had a breakfast meeting at the Ministry."_

_"It came up at the last minute. I should have told you, but you were asleep when I finally got home last night. I'm truly sorry you went to such trouble, Severus. You had all my favorites, too," Albus replied._

_Severus flashed a grimace that might have been a valiant attempt at a smile. "No matter, the sprog enjoyed it, and she demanded thirds of everything. Probably wouldn't have been enough for the three of us," he jested._

_"Are you eating enough? You're looking rather thin." Albus attempted to sound concerned rather than reproving._

"_Thin?" Snape voiced a soft, rusty laugh. "With this belly?"  
_

_The Slytherin patted his belly, and softly apologized to his daughter. _

_"Your face is quite thin. You need to see Poppy," Albus ordered. He didn't mean to command Severus, but really, sometimes Albus truly believed that if he didn't demand that Severus see Poppy, that his partner never would. It was for his own good, after all. "Perhaps, she can make a suggestion."_

_"I have an appointment on Friday. I spend enough time down there," Severus dryly stated. "Perhaps… we could do lunch today? I don't usually get you all to myself, and I want to finish the nursery before she arrives. I have several ideas and I desire your input."_

_"Lunch… I have a lunch meeting with the Wizarding Examinations Authority. They are intent on changing the OWLS for next year. I'm fine with anything you want to do in the nursery, just please, don't paint it in Slytherin and Gryffindor colors."_

_"Dinner?" Severus softly and hopefully questioned._

_Albus hated to disappoint Severus but he already was booked for dinner._

_"Dinner meeting with the Canadian delegation to the International Confederation of Wizards," Albus regretfully answered. "Lunch for them, dinner for me."_

_"After you return, perhaps, you'd care to join me… in my bed?"_

_That plaintive request stopped Albus cold. He put his hand on Severus' shoulder and was dismayed at how bony it felt beneath his hand. _

"_I told you that you didn't need to feel any obligation in that area to me," Albus reminded his partner. "I'm old; my fires don't burn as bright or as hot as they once did. You don't have to put out, Severus."_

_"I don't want to die…" was Severus' soft admission._

_What? What brought this on? Severus assured him that on this last visit that Poppy had declared him healthy as a hippogriff. Albus had made an effort to be there during Severus' exams, but Severus was obviously uncomfortable with him there, and the damn blasted meetings had started to interfere with his best efforts. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that Severus deliberately scheduled his prenatal exams for Albus' busiest days. Friday was booked even fuller than today was!_

"_You're not going to die," sternly interrupted Albus. "I __**refuse**__ to let you die."_

_"I don't want to die… with the feel of Goyle on my skin," whispered Severus. "Please… A-a-albus? Come to my bed tonight? I'll ensure you enjoy it."  
_

"_Severus, please… we've had this discussion before. I don't believe you're truly ready for it. We've tried it a few times, Severus, at your insistence, and I can taste your fright when I kiss you," softly protested Albus. "After the baby is born, Severus."_

_"If you'd only let me…" pleaded Severus._

_Severus leaned close to him, and kissed Albus. His partner was shaking so hard that Albus was fearful that the boy would shatter in a thousand pieces. The tentative kiss was diffident and shy and Albus gently pushed him away._

_"No," Albus stated. "You shouldn't be so concerned about my enjoyment."  
_

"_Just be patient with me," Severus begged. His dark eyes were staring into Albus' soul. "I just want to give you pleasure. You've been so good to me, bonding me, giving…"_

"_Enough, Severus. You're exhausted, Severus. Go back to bed, and don't worry about our meeting. I'll cancel it and reschedule it for another day."_

_Snape protested, and Albus overrode him, gently herding Snape towards his bedroom._

"_Get some sleep, Severus. We'll talk tomorrow, I promise."_

_"You said that last week," was Severus' barely heard response. "And the week before."_

_Albus went to his meetings at the Ministry with a heavy heart, promising himself that tomorrow, he'd spend more time with Severus. During one of his interminable meetings, his mind began to wander and he found himself at Hogwarts as an invisible observer._

_Severus nervously knocked on Minerva's door. She welcomed him warmly, and appeared surprised that he was there._

_"I know the Head Master has canceled our meeting, but I had worked on my presentation. Can I run it by you? I desire it to be perfect when he reviews my suggestions." Severus asked sincerely._

_Minerva, naturally agreed, and invited him into her quarters. The two of them discussed Severus' presentation in depth, and finally, Minerva nodded her head in approval._

_"It's obvious that you've put a great deal of effort into this. Albus will approve of your hard work, and there are some very excellent suggestions."_

_Minerva's hearty approval put a slight blush on Severus' face. _

"_If anything happens to me, you'll present them? I want him to know that I took my role as Assistant Deputy Head Master seriously. I know that my position is just a way for him to put me on the payroll, but I've tried my best."_

_"Severus, there's a fey look in your eyes that I don't like," Minerva gently reprimanded him._

_"I'm afraid, Min," Severus hesitantly admitted. "I'm frightened that I won't live to see the baby born, that I have only at most weeks to live… I'm deeply troubled because the last time I have been touched will have been by…them."_

_"Have you mentioned your fears to Albus?" Minerva questioned. Her green eyes narrowed as she looked at Severus._

_"He assures me that I will live, because he won't let me die," the boy then barked a laugh. It was a horrible sound, and Minerva embraced him when Severus' laughter turned to uncontrollable weeping. "You know the Head Master commands,… and as a good boy,… I must immediately obey. Therefore my deep rooted fears over my imminent death are nothing of which to be concerned."  
_

_To Albus' surprise, Minerva kissed Severus on his lips. His partner eagerly kissed her back, and then Minerva pulled away._

"_If we do this, Severus, we'll take it at your pace," she promised._

"_Just be patient with me," Severus plaintively requested. "I need to touch you first… please. He doesn't understand… why I need to touch him…I can't have him touch me…not yet…"_

_"Yes, I understand," she assured him. "Take as much time as you need, and perhaps, you'll grant me the pleasure of touching you."_

"_Pleasure?" His retort was bitter. "This body?"_

_"Yes, pleasure. But, Severus, take off your Glamour. Both of them, the one you have just for the Head Master so he doesn't realize how you truly look, and the one you layer on top of it for the rest of us."_

_"You'll be… repulsed…" he whispered. Severus withdrew from Minerva, and she put her hand on his forearm. _

"_Severus, my breasts are no longer firm and perky. Sadly, they sag. My belly isn't as trim as it once was, and my legs… aren't as lean as they once were. My best years were long behind me before I took you as a lover, and you never said I was repulsive."_

_"You're beautiful, Min," Severus's voice was intense as he protested her casual dismissal of her physical charms._

_"You know what I look like, and you're still interested. Why don't you trust me that I'll feel the same way?"  
_

_Having no answer to that, Severus took off his two Glamours. Minerva's sharp intake of breath matched Albus' own unease. _

"_Severus? You truly need to see Poppy," the witch softly stated._

_"She knows, Min," the shattered wreck of a man known as Severus Snape assured her. "I don't have a great deal of time left… maybe two months? Hopefully long enough to have the baby. But the sprog, she's drained all my magical energy, and is now working on my physical reservoirs. Don't let __**him**__ know, please."_

_"Albus needs to know…" Minerva protested._

_"No, we need him strong so he can face the Dark Lord. He'll needlessly weaken himself more if he knows. There's nothing to be done anyway, it's gone too far for me to be saved. It's a decision I willingly made. I've done so much evil in my life; perhaps, giving my life for the sprog might help balance the scale. But we don't even have a name for her yet, he's never around long enough to discuss it! No doubt she'll be saddled with something Gryddindorish like Godafrid. I don't dare give her a name as he'll make that decision like everything else!"_

_Albus made his excuses, and attempted to leave the meeting. He was delayed, naturally, but in the back of his mind, he could feel the growing passion between the two of them, a gentle wave of desire, and then the intensity of Severus' la petite mort. His partner was presently contentedly drifting in languid pleasure, and Albus was delighted for him.  
_

"_You will tell Albus about what just happened between us?" Minerva softly questioned._

"_He won't care," was Severus' quick reply. "He told me I could have my affairs. Matters not at all to him what I want, what I need."_

"_He does care," was her response. "But I'm so sorry, Severus, that I wasn't him. I know you desperately wanted your first time to be with him."  
_

"_Don't say that, I'm… thankful… it was you. I feel safe and protected when I'm with you, with him, I feel nothing but fear combined with that unholy desire for him. You warned me against him, I should have listened."_

_Albus was striding through the crowds of the Ministry, nearly running in his haste to leave. Damn it, naturally he couldn't Apparate out of the building thanks to the Anti-Apparation charms that had been added to the building since Voldemort's return. He needed to get back to Hogwarts, take Severus to Poppy and demand to know why both of them had kept Severus' condition secret from him. _

_Damn it, the boy had been deliberately scheduling his appointments for when he was busy!_

_The lovebirds had both gotten dressed, and they were enjoying a quiet dinner in Minerva's quarters by the time Albus managed to leave the Ministry. With a loud bang, he Apparated to Hogwarts.  
_

_Upon his arrival to Hogwarts, he was greeted by a rather peeved Fitch, a grinning Peeves, two dozen polka dotted speckled students and a rather irate Mrs. Norris who was not so happily sporting a skunk-like white stripe._

_"I don't have time for this," he curtly snapped before anyone dared voice their side of the story. "Figure it out among yourselves."_

_Albus was heading towards Minerva's quarters at a fast clip when he felt a pain in his belly. He had to stop for a moment, hold the railing as the pain was a ripping, tearing agony. _

"_Severus, you seem pale, are you alright?" Minerva's voice was quietly concerned._

_"Belly hurts," Severus admitted. "I think…."_

_"Severus! I'm taking you to Poppy, right now! No backtalk!"_

_"Min, it hurts. It really hurts, it feels like something is tearing…"_

_They were Flooing to the Infirmary, and Albus decided the hell with decorum, it was time for running. He barged into the Infirmary as Minerva was exiting the Floo with an ashen faced Severus. She was almost physically supporting him, as Severus was still tetchy when it came to magic being used on him._

_"Head Master?" Severus' voice whispered. "Don't you have a meeting with the Guatemalans right now?"_

_"To hell with Guatemala," Albus growled. "Let's get you to a bed."_

_Poppy quickly arrived, took one look at the pasty white Severus who was being carefully lowered to a bed, and her face grew grim._

_"It's happening, Poppy," Severus informed her of the obvious. "Get her out…You know what I want. Do it quickly… I want to see her. Don't sedate me; I won't wake to see her. I have to see her, Poppy."_

_"I know what your decisions are, Severus. Very well, I'll get my equipment. Minerva, Albus… you should wait outside, this won't be pretty."  
_

"_**I'm staying**__," Minerva and Albus announced at the same time.  
_

"_Severus?" The mediwitch questioned._

_"I don't want to be alone at the end," Severus admitted. His voice was strained, as though he was forcing himself to hide his terror. "I've been on my own for so long. I'm afraid, Min. Don't leave me."_

_"I'm here," the witch assured him. "So's Albus."_

_Severus smiled tightly and he bit his lip because of the pain. Minerva grabbed his hand and began squeezing it, and Albus grabbed a towel, dabbing at the boy's face. Snape was diaphoretic, and his color was poor._

_"Severus, we need to talk," Albus soothingly said._

_"I'm sorry I caused you to miss your meeting, Head Master," Severus blurted before his body twisted with pain._

_"No, no, no…" Albus whispered. "We never discussed a name. What do you want to call her?"_

"_Don't you have it already decided upon?" Severus painfully gasped while his body was writhing in agony._

_"No, I wanted to hear your ideas about names. You know her best after all, as you've been nurturing her so carefully these past eight months."_

_"I thought maybe… Ari…short for Arianna… for your sister," Severus timidly suggested. _

"_That's a wonderful name," Albus assured him. "What about her middle name?"_

_Bit by bit, Severus answered Albus' various questions, what to name the baby and what he wanted done in the nursery. Those questions answered, Albus began talking to him, apparently intent on having all the conversations they never had held over the years. Albus assuring him how brave he had been to turn spy on Voldemort, how proud he was of Severus, how he was a true role model to his students. _

_Minerva was tightly holding his hand, and Severus wondered…. Was this love? To not be alone when he died?_

_There was an indignant cry, and Poppy was soon positioning a wrapped, squiggly little life in his arms._

_"I love you, Ari," Severus whispered, and then he breathed his last. His soul then departed from his body in accordance to his carefully designed plans.  
_

_When Severus next woke, he was reassured to find himself in Albus' quarters, inside the nursery. Snape had researched this carefully, but he had been worried that he had done something incorrectly, but no, he was now a ghost. Ari was awake, and she was making little contented noises as she was industriously attempting to put her foot in her mouth._

"_Shhh, Ari, don't wake your father. He needs his sleep, as he's got meetings to attend, wars to plan and a school to lead. Don't put your foot in your mouth, Ari, you're to be a Potions Master like your Athair, not a contortionist. Don't you worry, love, your Athair will be here to keep an eye on you. Your father will neglect you… not intentionally, you know… but that's just the way he is. He does love you… but not as much as your Athair does. I'll be here forever, to keep an eye on you and your children; know this, as long as there is a Hogwarts, love, Athair will be here."_

_"I've got your bottle, Ari," Albus assured his daughter as he walked into the room. Candles burst into flame even as Albus Dumbledore dropped Ari's bottle when he saw who or what was standing near Ari's crib. _

_Unfortunately, since Severus wasn't able to do anything in the physical realm, before long a hungry Ari was screeching her war cry._

_"Now, now, love, you take after your Auntie Minnie," Severus loving chastised her. "Your father needs to get you a new bottle."_

"_Severus?" Albus questioned. "You're a ghost?"_

"_I came back, Albus," Severus stated, a tad bit maliciously. "I know you're far too busy to love our daughter like she deserves, so I decided it was necessary for me to stay and haunt you. You don't treat our daughter well; in fact if you don't treat her better than you treated me, I'll make your life a living hell. Right now I'm rather displeased that you're such a cack handed klutz that you dropped her bottle! Can't you even be bothered to feed our daughter? Should I call for a House Elf?"_

With Severus' condemnation ringing in his ears, Albus woke. He was disorientated at first, looking for Severus' ghost, until he saw Fawkes. The Phoenix gave him a loud, reassuring chirp, and the last of his nightmare disappeared into mist.

"Thank you, Fawkes," Albus whispered. The wizard put his hands to his temple and he sighed. The sigh expressed all his weariness and then some. The Phoenix voiced a soft chirp that while sympathetic still managed to convey his disapproval of recent events.

"Yes, I owe Minerva an apology," admitted Albus. "I should not have brought up our past. Severus trusts her, and she is willing to mediate…"

There was a snort of disbelief from the normally rather reserved Phoenix. Albus colored slightly, and conceded the point to Fawkes.

"Very well, Minerva is willing to firmly apply a beater's bat to my thick skull, repeated as necessary. I just don't know what to do, Fawkes. It is far too obvious that Voldemort has turned Severus in a Trojan Horse, Fawkes. It was entirely too easy to free Severus, and the child…" Albus sighed, and then he closed his eyes. "Merlin help me… I still don't believe that Severus truly wants the child. I fear that he's being compelled."

Brooding for far too long upon his dark thoughts combined with the deep fears that his nightmare had raised, the Head Master came to a decision.

"Fawkes, I'm off to apologize to Minerva," he stated seriously, then with a touch of wry amusement, he added, "If she decides to murder me, you are free from our bond, and you're not to attempt any reprisal out of a misguided sense of loyalty. I thank you for your many years of friendship. Fly free, Fawkes."

The Phoenix nuzzled his wizard for a moment, and then made a mocking trill.

"No, I know you won't blame Minerva if she decides to murder me. I deserve far more than the rough side of her tongue. Perhaps a peace offering might be appropriate? I remember that she liked roses. Perhaps pink to express my sincere thankfulness for her putting up with me all these years?"

Fawkes had his preference for colors, and pink was not one of them. He made no pretense at hiding his disgust at the thought of pink.

"No scarlet roses and certainly no gold roses," Albus gently chastised his familiar. "Perhaps peach?"

His familiar sighed his disgust at Albus' lack of fashion sense, and put his head under his wing, so not to answer.

"Peach it is, my friend," decided the Head Master. "Thank you for listening to me, Fawkes."

* * *

Minerva had taken a long walk around Hogwarts, attempting to settle herself. In due time, her troubled nerves were soothed, after plenty of long, deep breaths, combined with calming thoughts of strangling Albus with one of her Christmas scarves. After reliving numerous times that wonderful scenario in slow motion, and rewinding repeatedly in order to relish the exact moment when Albus realized that he was doomed, she had at last settled down enough to apologize to Horace. 

He didn't appear to be in his quarters, so deliberately she made herself quite comfortable on his sofa and began to speak out loud.

"Horace, I'm sorry. I know that it wasn't your fault about what happened, and you need not run for your life. I swear on my wand that you're safe from my wrath."

Her sincere apology voiced, she gently stroked the sofa, and seductively whispered, "Horace, you make a better pillow than a sofa. You're rather lumpy as a sofa but rather cuddly as a body pillow."

The sofa uproariously laughed and then transformed into Horace. Thankfully, she was expecting the transformation to occur, so she managed to jump to a standing position before Horace fully converted back to his human form. Else she would have ended in Horace's lap and that would have lacked any sense of decorum.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. I really didn't expect Albus to be hiding in the Hall. My students really needed to speak to Severus as they were rather upset about his disappearance. Some do not have the best of home lives, after all, and many looked upon him as a surrogate father figure. How is he?"

The real concern in Horace's voice surprised her, and she rebuked herself. How often she had forgotten that beneath the loathsome Slug Club persona, he was a surprisingly decent chap? After all, anyone with _**potential**_ could be a Sluggie, not just Slytherins and purebloods.

"He's shattered, Horace." It was the simple truth and yet not adequate at describing Severus' current status. Yes, shattered wasn't the right term, perhaps pulverized, milled, minced or even powdered were the better choices. The witch succeeded in hiding her smile when she thought how Severus would have easily been able to tell her the minute differences between pulverized, milled, minced and powdered. "It will take time for him to heal."

The Potions Master sadly nodded his head. "Severus did quite well today. Perhaps, Poppy will permit him to continue brewing with me? Nothing potentially toxic for either of them and I'll ensure proper ventilation. He can't stay in his sickroom forever, as he'll go astray in his head."

"Just don't take him on any more side trips without advising me, Horace. Else you will face the wrath of Minerva McGonagall, and you may not survive," she sternly warned him. "This time, you were lucky."

Horace Slughorn was a survivalist, and he knew full well how close he had come to earning the Eternal Wrath of Minerva McGonagall.

"I so swear," he quickly promised. "And, Minerva? Thank you for keeping a protective eye on Severus. Not many can stand eye to eye for long with Albus, and you're the only one here at Hogwarts."

She impulsively decided to hug and kiss him, which left a very flabbergasted Horace both blushing and sputtering. Having completely won their exchange, Minerva was in a very agreeable mood, even when she entered her quarters and saw that the damnable Albus was placing a vase full of peach blooms on her table.

"If I had known you already had several vases of red roses, I would have picked a different flower," he said by way of starting a conversation. "Would you prefer Orchids? Irises? Tulips? Daffodils? Thistles? I'll Transfigured them."

"They're lovely," Minerva assured him. "Leave them as is."

There was a protracted moment of silence between them, as they both reflected on their last conversation.

"I meant to be long gone by the time you returned. I misjudged when you'd be back," Albus softly stated. "I'm exceeding sorry, Minerva, for what I said. Please accept the flowers as a rather inadequate token of my sincerest and most heartfelt apology. I can offer no excuses for my loutish behavior, so I hope you will forgive me."

She stared at him for a bit, judging his earnestness, and then she nodded her head, accepting his apology.

"Sit," Minerva commanded. She sat down, and then arched her eyebrow in surprise when Albus didn't sit. Perhaps her conversation with Horace had inflated her self-esteem as she was slightly annoyed that Albus was still standing.

The Head Master then continued to speak. "You're utterly and completely correct, Minerva. Besides being a daft prat, I've been a right cack handed bastard with regards to Severus. Therefore, I'll leave him alone; I will swear it on my wand. Will you be my oath binder?"

He then handed his wand to her, and Minerva pushed it away.

"Don't be such a noble arse, you great big bloody fool," she roughly chastised him. "Sit, Albus. Sit! You still aren't feeling chipper, I can tell as I do know you. You really should cancel Charm classes tomorrow rather than teach Filius' class. In fact, you should let him teach his own class, as right now he'd run circles around you. You look like hell, you've expended a great deal of magical energy these last few days, and you're worried about Severus. Are you actually sleeping at all?"

The Head Master gracelessly collapsed into the couch next to her chair, and he sighed.

"I'm at a complete loss at what to do," Albus admitted. "I try to help, we argue and then he retreats into himself. If I don't do anything, leave him alone, give him time to heal… he'll believe that I'm rejecting him and the child. No matter how hard I try… I'll do the wrong thing. I just don't know the proper thing to do is. Minerva, what should I do?"

His concerned admission of less than complete infallibility surprised Minerva, but she chastised her less than charitable attitude.

Hadn't he had the same overreaction when she had been attacked? On that fateful night, Albus had intently searched for her when she had been late in reporting to the Order. Upon locating her, Dumbledore had swooped in like the proverbial Avenging Angel, his wand ablaze with power, the very air crackling from the sheer amount of magic he was casting. The mere sight of the enraged Albus had scared her tormenters into fleeing the scene.

Overwhelmed by her flashback, Minerva couldn't prevent herself from recalling how terrified she had been of Albus. There had been a fey look into his eyes, as though he was memorizing each of her attackers' face so he could hunt them down and kill them. Nay, not merely kill them, Albus was planning on retribution that involved complete and utter annihilation. His blue eyes had been burning with an unholy rage, a far cry from their usual amused twinkling when he had looked upon her.

She had been bloody, battered and bruised, and yet, still Minerva had crawled away from him… she needed to cover her nakedness, do anything but look into his burning eyes. Albus had followed her into an alley, and upon realizing that she was trapped, she had plaintively pleaded with him not to hurt her. The blaze in eyes had been quenched then, and he had looked away from her.

"Did they use magic on you, Minerva?" His voice was full of sadness.

At her weak affirmation, Albus had turned his back to her, and he had taken off his robe. At the time, she had been utterly terrified that Albus would decide to have his own fun, but instead he kept on his shirt and his trousers. Still not looking at her, he had held out his robe in one hand.

"This is handmade, not made by magic. Put it on, resize it to fit you. Then if you'll take my hand, I'll take you to get checked out by Poppy. You'll have to hold my hand, as I don't want you to Splinch yourself. You're in no condition to Apparate."

He hadn't left after he had turned her over to Poppy's tender mercies. No, Albus had sat with her through the exam, holding her hand while softly reassuring her. She couldn't remember a damn thing what he said to her… just that Albus had been there. He never asked for his robe back, and so she had kept it, wearing it to bed because she had felt _**safe**_, as though Albus was nearby, and ready to defend her. It was when the sleeves had begun to fray that she had decided to stop wearing the robe. It had become a crutch, helping her heal as far as she had, but her dependence on it was preventing her from healing completely. So, with careful neat stitches, Minerva had carefully repaired the sleeves, and then put it in her wardrobe. It was still there, but she never wore it.

On the bad nights, when her memories resurfaced, she would open her wardrobe, and gently stroke the robe in order to recenter her soul.

Now, deliberately, she put herself back into that particular mindset, uneasily dredging up how she felt right after her violation.

Minerva remembered all too well how an enraged Albus had reacted when he realized what she had endured, her intense fear to any physical contact combined with her overwhelming need to be reassured that she wasn't spiritually soiled. Then in the correct state of mind, the witch imagined that a group of faux Albuses had been her attackers and how would she react to the real Albus' constant presence, the gifts, his noble attempts at making everything better for her combined with the knowledge that she was enamored with him? The fact that Albus knew of her feelings must be added to the equation, and so Minerva mentally debated. What would prove dominant; her intense fear or her feelings for Albus? What would she do? How would she react?

Minerva ignored her instinctive reaction, and deeply pondered the thought. Severus prided himself on his logic, not silly sentiments.

But either way, her answer was the same. She'd push Albus as far away as she could because it had been his hands, his body, his face that had done this to her. He had turned an act of love into a brutal, violent mockery. And while she knew it was not Albus who had violated her, there was an overwhelming fear of Albus that she simply could not shake.

Someone touched her hands, and she flinched from the contact. It took a few minutes for Minerva's heart to stop racing and for her to regain her composure.

"Minerva? Where were you just now?" Dumbledore's voice was low and full of concern. "I kept calling your name, and you weren't listening. Why are you crying?"

"I was attempting to put myself into Severus' position. It brought back some unpleasant memories," she shakily admitted, as she wiped away her tears. "Backing off is the only thing to do right now, Albus. Give the boy a chance to reestablish his emotional equilibrium. From personal experience, I can assure you that Severus doesn't know right from left, up from down, and most importantly, he has no idea who he can trust."

"He trusts you," Albus reminded her.

"You trust me, don't you?" Minerva questioned.

"_**Yes**_!"

"Then back off. For all intents and purposes, you Imperio'd Severus into agreeing to be Bonded when he was exhausted from dealing with his… no… YOUR… no… OUR… Slytherins. When I confronted you about your rampaging Chinese Fireball in a Wand Shop tactics, you pouted and then stated the Bonding was canceled." Minerva's tone was tart as she expressed her disgust.

"I wouldn't say I was pouting, exactly," Albus retorted. "You were right, Minerva. The boy is terrified of me, how can I inflict on a Bonding on him?"

"Did you find anything else that might keep Severus alive?" Minerva questioned.

"No." That was admitted slowly.

"You need to listen to me, Albus, and take what I'm telling you to heart. You're pushing Severus into doing what you want. You haven't stopped long enough to ask him what he wants."

"He wants to run away to Spinner's End, Minerva," retorted Albus. "Didn't we both agree that his plan was perhaps a bit reckless?"

"Can you blame him? He lost his arm, Albus, and most importantly, Severus has lost his dignity and his self-respect. Trust me, when you're lying face down in the dirt while someone is ramming their wand into you, it mortally wounds your soul. He's trying to put himself back together, and he can't do _**anything**_ without you sticking your crooked nose into it to force him to do it the way you want. The minute Poppy or I leave the boy, you're there. Why did Severus have to talk to our Slytherins?"

"It would mean more to them coming from him than from me," Albus easily answered. "That was a decision that he and Horace made together. They thought it best to handle the situation that way. I did not, as you so descriptively put it, put my crooked nose into it."

"Because of your well known anti-Slytherin bias," Minerva reminded him.

"Yes, because of my well known anti-Slytherin bias, and because of my all too dangerous liking for power. Minerva, I look at Severus, and I see how I can help him, I want to use my power to help him heal, and I accept the fact that I'll destroy him in the process. Therefore, I'm stepping back."

"Merlin's scrote! You're serious, aren't you?" Minerva nearly fell out of her chair in stunned disbelief.

"Yes," Albus softly agreed. "But I do so only because I know that you'll be there to help him."

"What brought this on? It wasn't just me shaking some sense into your hard head," Minerva tartly asked.

"I had a dream. Severus was bonded with me, and I… neglected… him. He wanted only a few moments of my time and I was always too busy. He craved physical affection with me; I kept pushing him away because he was too fragile. I ignored his request for me to be patient with him, to allow him to make the first moves with me, because… because I needed to prove to him, to prove to myself that I wasn't like the Albuses who had hurt him. By doing so, I proved that I was far worse than they were, because I promised him that I cared."

"There's more," Minerva decided.

"Yes," he admitted. "You two had an affair, because you let him handle that delicate situation the way he wanted. Severus later died from acute blood loss due to a torn placenta, after Poppy did an emergency delivery in the Infirmary. That's not all…" Albus confessed.

"That's not all? That's not a dream, that's a nightmare," Minerva exclaimed.

"Severus returned as a ghost because he wanted our daughter to know that she was loved. But I know that the real reason he refused to move on was to keep an eye on me and to ensure that I treated our daughter properly."

* * *

Severus put down his quill, and he decided that he'd read his last will and testament tomorrow. He had woken from a horrible dream in which he had died after giving birth, leaving him in a rather fey mood, and he hadn't been able to get back to sleep. 

Death.

In particular, his death.

He had wanted to die, had debated the easiest and cleanest way of obtaining his objective, had decided upon his plans and then Severus had realized that there was no way he could commit suicide. While it would be far easier to land in the middle ring of the seventh circle of hell than to face a livid Albus Dumbledore on a daily basis, he knew that he couldn't kill the sprog.

But now, Albus had promised to Bond him.

"He's Bonding me," he quietly stated. "That means, my little sprog that you'll live. You'll have a family, a proper family, where you will know that you were wanted and loved by both your parents. I hope that I will live to see how happy you'll be."

He closed his eyes, and whispered, "I'm to be his Severus. He'll announce our Banns in the Daily Prophet before long, announcing his intention to the entire wizarding world. You'll be so glad to have him as your father, because he won't let anyone hurt you."

Severus harshly laughed, "I bet you that right now he's planning the Bonding Ceremony. He'll no doubt wear some horribly garish robe and I'll be embarrassed. Tomorrow, he'll visit us in order to tell me how outlandish our Bonding Ceremony will be. I'll pretend to be horrified, but I'll let him have his way, naturally. You know, Minerva and Poppy have both barred him from the Infirmary, but that won't stop him."

Those happy thoughts helped lull Severus to sleep and his last words were, "He'll barge in here, and nobody will dare to stop him, because he cares so much for us. It will be like we're… Potter…"


	16. Chapter 16

D/C # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing. Gratuitous uses of goats in this chapter, but no charms were used against any underage goats during the creation of this chapter. 

A/N # 1 - Thanks to Linze and Excessively Perky for ideas and suggestions.

* * *

While Severus' exhausted body was drifting off to sleep, his mind was busy reliving his day.

_He promises to protect us. _

_But I heard his unspoken threat and I know that you did. I must do everything that he wants me to do, willingly and without complaint, as he was furious about my lack of faith in him. No matter how I fear that I will drown, I have to let him be in charge. If I do that, he'll care for us, protect us, and keep us safe. I'm terrified of him but it's the only way you'll survive. _

_Once I'm in his bed, and regularly servicing the Head Master, perhaps he'll loosen my leash. He's promised me access to his library, and I need to research a way to prevent the Head Master from needlessly weakening himself. I am the Dark Lord's weapon, created in order to weaken and destroy the Head Master but the Dark Lord has made a very foolish mistake. By Compelling me to love you with every ounce of my being, I have no choice but to do everything I can to ensure that the Head Master lives so you can grown up under his protection. I'm not really essential after you're born; I am only required to survive the next seven or so months._

_Fool, the Dark Lord didn't need to waste the energy to Compel me to love you. I would have done anything to ensure that you were safe, but now he's given me leeway so I can wiggle and juggle his various commands. I'm not to tell the Head Master the truth, yet I must tell him the truth so you can live. _

_Yet when I've tried to tell the Head Master, my tongue is stilled by the Dark Lord's magic. I have to struggle harder… but I will… I will… _

_Tomorrow when the Head Master barges in here, he'll have the date set for our Bonding, and I can start working toward my goal of warming his bed. Perhaps, tomorrow, I will hesitantly plead with the Head Master to sit next to me in bed and put his arm around me? I will fearfully shy away from his touch, yet I will shyly beg him to keep his arm around me. I must to begin his seduction slowly, perhaps when he leaves; I can place a timid schoolboy kiss on his cheek, so when we are once again intimate, the Head Master will believe that he is fulfilling my wary desires. After the first time I pleasure him, the Head Master will no longer concern himself about my fears. He'll be focused completely on his needs that I will supposedly delightedly succor. _

Severus knew that his dreams would be jam-packed with nightmares of an angry, abusive Albus, but it matter not at all to him.

_The Dark Lord didn't need to Compel me to love you either, Albus.__I'd willingly endure your abuse because I accept that I am intrinsically unworthy of your love. I know that I am only worthy of your exploitation. But I would rather be used and consumed by you than loved by another. Just… please… don't cast me aside. Not until after she's born. _

_Not now, not after you promised me that I was your Severus, and that you'd protect us. I didn't want to believe you… I didn't… for I know what your promises are worth… yet… I am so weak. To protect her, I have to trust you._

_Please, I beg you. Don't break your promise to me. _

And when he dreamed of the Head Master roughly pushing a fourteen year old Severus onto the Head Master's large bed, Severus continued to smile. For Severus drew comfort from the unmistakable fact that he would willingly endure the unendurable in order to save the sprog. His body was a form of currency after all, and therefore, Severus would use it. 

* * *

"How do I inform him that the Bonding is off?" Minerva questioned Albus.

"The simple truth is probably best," Albus assured her. "Tell Severus that after a great many applications of your Beater bat to my thick skull, I finally realized that I was forcing him to accede to my wishes. My intentions were well meant, but still forced upon him. In this case, I do not know best. When he is stronger, the two of us will discuss all the available options and he will make the decision. You will naturally sit in during our discussions to ensure that I behave."

Minerva sat back in her chair, and deliberately and yes, mockingly. she opened her mouth in a big "O" of fake surprise. In response to her joke, Albus merely snorted.

"Mock me, will you? When I'm being sincere and humble? No wonder I don't endeavor to be humble more often," Albus huffed. In a far more serious timbre, Albus continued, "Anything he needs…"

"I'll inform you." Minerva assured him.

"Will you keep me informed regarding his precarious health? If he begins to fail, time will be of the essence in order for me to finalize our Bond."

"Naturally, but Poppy believes that he has several months before the bairn begins to adversely affect his health."

Albus' response wasn't repeatable in polite company, and a sympathetic Min nodded her head.

"I agreed with that comment and told Poppy such. She explained that his current health crisis is mainly due to his extended torture sessions. It's not because of the _Paters_ spell. _Paters Gignere Ingeniter _is really a very crafty spell as its main goal is to produce a viable, healthy child, and that won't happen if you kill the incubator within the first few months," Minerva paused and then slowly added. "It's just after the baby reaches a viable state that the incubator can die."

* * *

When Severus woke, he was bleary and wool-headed. Nightmares had disrupted his sleep for most of the night, but he was still quite stunned when he realized that it was almost two in the afternoon.  
_  
Odd, that the Head Master didn't wake me when he visited. If he's teaching Filius' classes today, your father had the hour before lunch free. There is no doubt in my mind that he was here to inform me when we'd be bonded. Don't you worry; he'll be back shortly as he is a relentless meddler._

_I hope our Bonding is soon, so you'll be safe. He'll grow to love you as much as I do._

Severus closed his eyes, and he cursed the fact that he was a Potions Master. His stump was aflame in agony and he knew too much regarding Poppy's current arsenal of pain potions to request anything that might ease his pain. Too much narcotics would adversely affect the sprog, and therefore he'd have to endure the pain. 

_I do this for you. _

And so the days and nights of Severus Snape continued; his living was full of pain and nightmares, and the rare, welcome disturbances of the occasional visitor. 

* * *

Minerva was visiting and her keen eyes noticed the small dish of candy that was on his chest of drawers. Severus had requested that a House Elf fill it with the Head Master's favorites, lemon drops, sherbert lemons and peppermint humbugs. Obsessively, every time he woke, he counted the candies to see if the Head Master had stopped by to visit him. If the Head Master had stopped by to visit, there was no doubt in Severus' mind that he'd indulge in a sweet.

He had his uneasy doubts that the Head Master was actually visiting him. Yes, Severus had been sleeping for most of the last two weeks, but it was odd… that the Head Master hadn't accidentally woken him at least once. Filius, Horace and Minerva had visited, he knew, but he didn't remember Albus visiting. 

The last few times he had compulsively counted the candies, there had been eight of each. Once there had been only seven of the peppermint humbugs, but after his burst of wild euphoria had faded, he had remembered that he had offered a scrikey Millicent Bullstrode sweets during one of her visits. She had taken the peppermint humbug, not the Head Master. 

Yes, many of his former Slytherins had taken it upon themselves to visit him, usually for only a short time thankfully due to Poppy's strict rules on visiting the unwell. Milicent had been one of his more frequent visitors, and he had been surprised to find her a quiet visitor. Well, except for the day she had wept. 

Yes… his Slytherins were visiting him. Even Draco had sat with him once, and the boy had said nothing during his entire hour long visit. Draco had just tightly held his hand while Severus had bit his lip hard to prevent himself from screaming obscenities at the boy. He had no idea why Draco had visited, the boy had seemed to want to say something but he never spoke. 

"Developing a sweet tooth?" Minerva dryly questioned.

"No, it's for when the Head Master visits," Severus sheepishly explained. "Minerva, please, inform him that the next time he stops by that he can wake me…"

"Severus, Albus was banned from the infirmary. Do you not remember that?" Minerva gently questioned.

Her comment made his blood run cold. What if the Head Master had abandoned him since he had gotten what he desired? Severus had agreed to the Bonding, which meant under Wizardly Law that if anything happened to him, Albus would have sole custody of the sprog.

_When I die giving birth to you, he will have you to himself! He can raise you exactly the way he wants, remove the taint of Slytherin from your innocent soul… and you'll love him for it! Love him!_

"Like that would stop him?" Severus desperately quipped, struggling to hide his fear. "If anything, I would assume that the Head Master being told that he couldn't stop in would make him more determined to visit. I don't even know when we're to be Bonded. I know he's planned it all out and no doubt our Bonding will be ostentatious and flamboyant. I almost fear to hear the details."

His hand was shaking, and Minerva placed her hand on top of it. 

_**No!**_ The Head Master had pledged that he truly cared for _**his**_ Severus and Severus had decided to believe him. 

The Head Master had even assured him that they'd be lovers.

_You promised me that you'd woo and court me. You mouthed insincere platitudes how I was honoring you… HONORING you… because… because… I wanted to share your bed. But I know how you are, Head Master! You lied to me! You lied to me! I should have known that I can't trust you. _

_You always talk out of your goddamn Gryffindor arse!_

_Why did I trust you? Because you spoke so sweetly to me that I dared to believe your lies!_

_You're no better than my father! My mother used to cuddle me after she hit me, tell me sweet sounding lies on how she'd never hit me again… but she always lied! My father promised that he wouldn't hit me again, but he always blamed it on me when he hit me!_

"Severus…" Minerva's voice was very soft. 

"There's to be no Bonding?" He was proud that his voice was steady. All Severus had left was his pride, and he was determined to keep it.

"Albus realized that he was forcing his decisions upon you…" 

Minerva was toeing the party line, explaining in detail why the oaths and pledges of Albus Dumbledore to a Slytherin could be so easily broken without reprisal. She continued to talk, and while he heard her soft, caring voice, his soul was loudly shrieking, "_You're not getting her without a fight!"  
_  
After a long time in which Severus heard everything Minerva said and yet understood none of it, Minerva ended her conversation with a heartfelt, "It's for the best, Severus. You understand that, don't you? You need time to heal, Severus."

"Yes," he easily agreed, as he refused to let Minerva how much pain he was in. "I understand that it's for the best."

They were silent for a bit, and Severus swallowed once, before he again spoke.

"Did he mention my new position of Assistant Deputy Head Master to the Board of Governors yet?" Severus tentatively questioned. "Did they approval the funding for the position at their latest meeting?"

Waiting for the answer he knew was coming, his heart still shattered when Minerva informed him that the proposed position was still unfunded.

_I have no way to provide for us! I can't brew! I would willingly prostitute myself, but I am worthless. I can't teach. I can't spy. I'm ugly and maimed! I'm utterly useless to the Head Master, except as an incubator to his Heir.  
_  
"It's for the best, as I'm in no condition right now to assume the position," Severus calmly stated. It was almost frightening how easily Severus was compartmentalizing his emotions. He needed his cool, rational intellect now. He'd deal with this latest and final betrayal of Albus later. "Minerva, as much as I enjoy your visits, I find myself a little tired today. Would you mind letting me rest?"

"Are you sleeping, Severus? You look exhausted," Minerva questioned.

"Last night she kept me up, as she didn't like dinner," Severus easily lied. "Perhaps tomorrow, you could bring some Indian takeaway? She seems to prefer spices."

They playfully argued over what Minerva would bring and how spicy the food should be. Then at last, Minerva agreed to what he supposedly wanted. That done, Minerva asked him once more how he was feeling.

"I'm just… tired…" Severus shammed and then he closed his eyes.

"Very well, I'll leave you. Just let me know if you need anything," she insisted. "No matter what the time, please contact me."

"I promise," he lied. Then with a heartfelt sincerity, he thanked her for her assistance. "I want to make sure you understand how much I appreciate you. It's not easy standing up to the Head Master. No one else could have done as much for me as you have."

"Now, now, love, you're getting maudlin," Minerva gently chided.

Severus knew Minerva well enough to know that she was touched by his uncharacteristic gratitude. He did appreciate her; it was just a damn shame that she was a thoroughly indoctrinated devotee of the Head Master. Minerva had struggled to help him, she _**had**_, and he'd never forget that Minerva, and Minerva alone, had struggled to shield him from the Head Master.

For what little time remained to him, he'd cherish their friendship.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then Minerva left his room. He kept his eyes closed, his breathing even so that he appeared to be sleeping during a quick check by Poppy. When the mediwitch left, he waited for some time, just to ensure that the damnable efficient Poppy wouldn't return. 

_I've got to get away from Hogwarts._

_I need to get away from both Albus and the Dark Lord. _

_I need… I need… to escape._

_I have money… at Gringrotts. Albus oversees my account as part of my original parole… but he doesn't need to give me permission for me to remove my funds. They'll notify him if the account has been closed… but I could inform the bank that the cost for my mother's care has increased and that I have not been collecting a salary. Perhaps that will delay Albus' notification._

_But I am in arrears… I'm in serious arrears for her care. _

_I'm…what… three months in arrears… they'll toss her out in the street if I don't pay soon… She wasn't much of a mother, but she is my mother… I can't let that happen. _

His mind was reeling, his thoughts scattered and uncollected. All Severus knew was that he needed to protect his daughter and his mother but he had no way of doing so.

"Professor?" Draco's voice was barely audible. "I need to speak to you."

"What is it?" was Severus' curt response.

Draco entered his room, and quickly approached him.

"My mother wanted me to give you a message," Draco informed him. "I had to wait until Madame Pomfrey was busy before I could talk to you."

"If your mother wishes to give me congratulations on the upcoming blessed event, she can go directly to hell," Severus retorted.

"No," Draco stated. His pale face was flushed with his anger regarding Severus' disrespect to his mother, but the boy held his tongue. "I'm to tell you that she remembers her life debt to you, and that it remains unpaid. If you require assistance, she will help as much as she is able to do so. Father will never know of our assistance in this matter, as I understand that I owe you a life debt also."

Narcissa Black Malfoy had a difficult time conceiving and carrying a child to term and she had been feared barren by Lucius. Severus had provided her with several potions that had resulted in one Draco Malfoy. 

It wasn't a life debt, but Cissy had an almost Hufflepuff loyalty in assisting those that had once helped her, and she had instilled the same characteristics into her son.

He wouldn't go to Cissy for help, but he could use her son. 

"Can you get me out of Hogwarts?" Severus intently questioned. "Get me out of the school, and all debts between us are paid. I need to return to Him, and the Head Master will not let me."

"You just can't leave?" Draco questioned.

"No, I just can't leave, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps you failed to notice that I'm currently being held in an observation room in the Infirmary. My magic fluctuates erratically at the moment, and while I could simply blast my way out of the Infirmary, that seems to be a case of Gryffindor excess. I am a Slytherin, after all."

Draco flushed once more and he nodded his head.

"I've got an invisibility cloak," Draco explained. "You can use it to escape and when you're done with it, you can return it. I brought it here with me."

Ah, the sweet blessed innocence of the obscenely rich. How could the boy not understand how dear an invisibility cloak was?

"How can you explain that you're here?" Severus questioned.

"I came with Millicent. She's distracting the staff by bleeding," Draco answered easily.

"Bleeding?" Severus repeated in disbelief.

"A great deal."

"I need to pack, and you'll need to create a simulacrum to replace me in the bed. It's a NEWT levels charm, but I'm sure you're more than capable of it," Severus decided that flattering the boy would be the best way to head off Draco asking why Severus wasn't casting. "Make sure it breathes and looks realistic."

* * *

He was quite dizzy from his physical and magical exertions but Severus managed to pack a great many of his new clothes into a small package which he then had Draco miniaturize 'for practice'. He had debated taking the warm sweater and the fuzzy socks, but knowing Dumbledore, there were Location charms cast in each stitch.

"Here," Draco said. He pushed a small leather purse into Severus' hands. "We took a collection, it's not much, but it's what we could pull together on such short notice."

"We?" Severus softly questioned.

"Slytherin house. There's some Muggle money included. I'm not sure what your plans are, but I'm sure that you'll need money."

"Was this a _**willing**_ collection, Mr. Malfoy?" Severus couldn't help but ask. He knew the boy far too well after all.

"Professor Snape!" Draco exclaimed in a faux innocent tone.

"That tone doesn't even work with Flitwick, Mr. Malfoy, and he's a far more trusting soul then I have ever been," Severus tartly informed him. "But… thank them for me."

"It was Millicent's idea," Draco blurted. "She convinced everyone to contribute and to keep it quiet. Professor Slughorn has no idea what we've done."

"Don't let him find out," warned Severus. "I don't want your generosity backfiring on you."

"He'll never find out! We Slytherins take of our own. He's too busy with his Slug Club to watch over us like you did," Draco easily admitted.

Damn him for a fool, he was getting mawkish. He should stay to defend his Slytherins against the Head Master's anti-Slytherinism, but he had to flee for his child's sake.

"We better leave," Severus decided. "I doubt Millicent has much more blood left in her body for us to dawdle."

* * *

�A heavily bandaged Millicent was escorted from the Infirmary back to the Slytherin dorm by a helpful Draco. Severus followed the two Slytherin students closely, and he never realized until now, how bloody far it was from the Infirmary to the Slytherin dorm.

"Follow her into the girls' dorms," Draco hissed. "Pansy will get you out of Hogwarts. It will be easier for you to walk directly to Hogsmeade rather than traveling through the secret passageways."

He followed Millicent through the dorms until at last he was standing in a dark hallway. Pansy Parkinson saw Millicent the mummy arrive and then Pansy loudly announced that she was having a smoke break. A gaggle of girls followed her as she opened the door to the outside. She propped open the heavy door and Parkinson began handing out contraband cigarettes.

How_**horrifying**_! His underage students were _**smoking Muggle tobacco**_? They'd get pneumonia! It was _**February**_!

Millicent hung back, as she couldn't join the smoking clutch for fear of setting her bandages on fire. Severus brushed her back with his hand and whispered his sincere thanks into her ear. She nodded once, and then whispered good luck.

It took almost the last of his energy, but at last, after what seemed like hours of trudging, he found himself in Hogsmeade. It was late in the evening, and most people were inside where it was warm. Naturally, he was the only idiot outside. Severus continued walking until he was on the very outskirts of the village.

Then he held up his wand hand, begging that he had enough magic left to do this simple task. 

With a loud bang, a triple-decker, violently purple bus that was exuberantly lettered in gold letters arrived. Somehow, he managed to stand, and then a pimply faced boy stepped off the bus.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus," he said in a nasal tone, intently reading off a small card that he had clutched in his hands. It was obvious that even with his many years of reading the same spiel over and over, he was having a great deal of difficulty with the words. "Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this evening."

He paused, and then he glared at Severus.

"Where do you want to go, mate?"

Where did he want to go? Anywhere, far away from here. 

Spinner's End would be the first place Albus would expect him, and therefore, it would be the very last place Albus would look. He'd go there, rest for the night. Then tomorrow, he'd go the bank, pay what he could for his mother's care, and then… decide what to do next. 

"Leaky Cauldron," Severus stated. "London."

"That will be one galleon and two sickles. But for one galleon four sickles you get 'ot chocolate, and for one galleon six sickles, you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toothbrush in the color of your choice," Stan announced.

He needed to be careful about his money, but he was about to puke. Maybe a hotwater bottle would help settle his stomach. 

"I'll take the hot water bottle," Severus decided, deliberately enunciating his 'H''s. "And I'll take the toothbrush. Do you have it in black?"

Stan Shunpike took his money, and showed him to an empty bed. Severus failed not to notice that the chandeliers were swinging wildly. His stomach was already upset enough, and he feared that it was about to get much, much worse. 

"Take her away, Ern!" Stan shouted.

When the shrunken head chimed in with, "Yeah, take it away, Ernie! Fasten your safety belts, clench your buttocks! It's going be a bumpy ride," Severus knew that he was doomed.

With a loud crash, the Knight Bus disappeared from Hogsmeade leaving silence that was soon interrupted by a bleating goat kid. The goat kid bleated again, and knocked its head against an older man's leg. He was a rather grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and a beard. He wore glasses and his blue eyes looked vaguely familiar. His legs were also quite stunning as he wore a neat kilt to show them off to their full advantage. When it was Witch's Night at the Hog's Head, his lovely legs brought in a significant amount of tips to help supplement his income.

"And what, I wonder, has my dear brother done now?" he questioned. "Come along, Mattie. You shouldn't get lost this late at night. A renegade wizard might find you and cast inappropriate charms on you."

Mattie the goat kid bleated loudly in response, and the two friends returned back to the Hog's Head tavern. 


	17. Chapter 17

D/C # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

A/N # 1 - Thanks to Linze and Excessively Perky for ideas and suggestions.

Synopsis: Severus has escaped from Hogwarts using the Knight Bus.

* * *

Barely managing to keep his stomach in check until he got to the Leaky Cauldron, Severus gratefully escaped alive from the insane asylum on wheels better known to the Wizarding World as the Knight Bus.

"No tip?" Stan hopefully questioned, his hand outstretched in a universal gesture.

"Never play leapfrog with a unicorn. It could prove exceedingly painful and could require extensive corrective surgery," Severus dutifully informed the conductor.

His tip delivered, Severus abruptly walked away from the Knight Bus and its rather perplexed Conductor, all the while carefully caressing his wand that he had hidden. The wand was fully powered, and he needed to be careful about recklessly squandering its magical energy. Fortunately, it was rather late, and everyone was tucked away in their warm beds, so it was unlikely that anyone saw his arrival. Though knowing Dumbledore's contacts, odds were quite high that he had already been spotted and his escape made known to the Head Master.

Severus accepted the bitter fact that he'd have to use public Muggle transportation as part of his escape from Hogwarts. He'd utilize the Tube to get to Victoria Tube Station so he could then catch a Muggle bus… a BUS for the love of all that was magical… in order to get to Spinners End. It was crucial that he fade into the background, and so he carefully concentrated to produce a malleable Disillusionment spell. People would _**see**_ him, but not _**notice**_ him, which was exactly what one needed when one was dressed like a one-armed extra who had wandered off from the latest Jane Austen film.

He had purposely lied to Draco that he was returning to the Dark Lord, which why he had packed all his clothes from Albus. It would have been far easier to escape with only the clothes on his back, but Draco would have wondered about his wardrobe. One didn't present oneself to the Dark Lord wearing travel stained clothes. That simply wouldn't be proper!

Severus hated using the Tube; it was claustrophobic, noisy and smelly. Plus it was downright unnatural to ride underground in a metal tube that sped along tracks, instead of flying through the air on a broom. But Tobias had insisted during one of his feeble attempts at producing a 'normal' son, that Severus know how to use the Tube. As he settled into a seat on the Tube, Severus Snape regretfully thanked the bastard that raised him, who in between his bouts of alcoholism, had sadistically attempted to beat him into a proper Muggle. If it wasn't for Tobias Snape, he'd be absolutely defenseless in the Muggle world. Fortunately, he knew far more about Muggles then even the great sainted Albus Dumbledore, plus no Death Eater would ever admit to comprehending an Underground schedule.

Then again, the wild eyed Bellatrix LeStrange would fit in nicely with the Tube irregulars, beggars and huskers.

His game plan was simple.

First, Spinners End for Muggle clothes, some currency and provisions that he had hidden for emergencies such as this, and perhaps a brief nap. Then he'd return to Diagon Alley for an accounting of his finances. Thanks to his accrued sick time, he had been drawing a salary of some sort during the last few months. With that, he'd be current on the bills for his mother's stay at the St. Helga's Home for the Magically Feeble. Then Severus would go to a hole in the wall, take every last pence from his Muggle bank account and then he'd run like the very hounds of hell were after him.

Severus knew that in the end, he'd have to crawl back to Albus Dumbledore, tail between his legs to ensure the survival of the sprog, but at least he'd have a few months of Dumbledore-Voldemort-Potter-Black free peace.

He was exhausted and the rhythm of the train running along the tracks was close to lulling him to sleep. It would be dangerous to fall asleep on the Tube, but Severus was extremely fatigued, barely able to keep his eyes open. Severus would not have been able to stop himself from dropping off entirely if it weren't for the fact he was positively shaking with the cold. His head was beginning to nod however, and it was as his eyes were drifting shut that he spotted the map of the Underground opposite him.

The map… it was important… so utterly significant…

"_**Dumbledore has a scar in the shape of the Underground. He's called it right useful at times!"**_ his subconscious screamed that warning, and Severus woke completely.

What was he thinking? He couldn't spend the night at Spinners End as that would be the first place the Head Master would look for him. He needed to be in and out quickly, leaving all of Dumbledore's fine clothes at his summer home. It would be sheer foolishness for him to keep any of the clothes, as no doubt Albus had Charmed Locator Spells onto everything he had been given, even down to his pants.

Albus would be able to find him through his clothes which meant he'd have to get rid of the emerald green dressing gown. It wasn't as though he'd be able to wear it on the street when he was panhandling, but it had been a gift from the Head Master and it had been so warm. It would be better if he just took all of the clothes, the bribes, the enticements to behave, the sweeteners laced with rat poisoning from the Head Master and put them all into a refuse bin.

But the dressing gown….

It was only a bloody dressing gown, but Severus remembered all too well how overwhelmed he had been by Albus' gift. He had known himself to be an utter fool, desperate for any type of reassurance and the sheer intimacy of the gift had affected Severus deeply.

_The robe was warm, and soft to touch. It felt almost as if Albus' arms were around him, protecting him and the sprogling. His right hand kept compulsively caressing the fabric while his mind was unable to understand why Albus had given him such a gift._

"_I specifically asked that they cut the sleeves a little large. I didn't want the left sleeve to be too tight," Albus explained. "It should be warm. You feel the cold so easily that I thought you might like it."  
_  
He should burn the damn thing, and while he was at it, he should have brought Phineas St. Clare's "Guide to Advanced Potions for the Clever Practitioner" to add to his funeral pyre. But he couldn't bring himself to damage the book, and he had left it in his sickroom.

Damn it, all those year he had desperately wanted to devour St. Clare's tome and once he finally had it in his hand, he had been too ill to do much more than marvel at the fact that he now possessed a personal copy.

_I had mentioned to you once, so many years ago, that I was interested in a copy. You found it for me, bought me warm clothes because you knew I feel the cold and then you promised to Bond me. _

_Then it all changed. What did I do to make you change your mind? How did I anger you? Were you sickened because I so desperately wanted to share your bed?_

_It was the only way I believed that I could serve you still! _

_You couldn't even be bothered to tell me that our Bonding was canceled. No, you sent the loyal Minerva to inform me that you wished me dead. I foolishly hoped that you cared, but it was just a Dumbledore ploy to gain custody of the sprog._

_Perhaps, you thought it was a kindness; that the compassionate Minerva would soften the painful blow with her empathy._

_I understand, Head Master, why you decided not to bond me. I have no value to you. I can't teach Potions or Defense. I can't spy for you. _

_Those are what kept me from the eternal bliss of the Dementor's Kiss. _

_Unfortunately I can't be Kissed, not while the sprog is on board as they find baby soul particularly scrumptious. But the Dark Lord will be furious, as the Head Master was to Bond me. He'll hurt me for failing… he'll hurt the sprog._

_I should have stayed at Hogwarts. It would be safer for the sprog, as the Dark Lord would be limited in what he could do to me._

_But… I can't stay there, knowing that when I'm dead, Head Master, you'll overwhelm the innocent sprog with attention and affection. She'll love you so much, and you'll keep the shame of her true parentage from her. She'll be raised Gryffindor proud, sneering down upon the Slytherins… _

_You'll never tell her about the Slytherin who loved her so much that he was willing to die for her._

_I desire time alone with her. No Daddy, no Minerva, no Poppy… Just the two of us. I deserve that much!  
_

_I should give you a proper name, except Albus will change it when he has you all for his own. But I can't keep calling you sprog!_

_Therefore, I name you _Ariana_, for the Head Master's sister, a true innocent. I never met her, Ari; do not be jealous. You are the only true innocent I have ever known. _

The Tube rumbled to a halt, and with a harsh blare of noise, announced its current location.

It was his stop. Severus searched within himself, and he could go no further, physically, mentally or emotionally. But for Ari's sake, he staggered to his feet, and he lurched out the door into the Tube station.

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey was having a horrific night; little suspecting that it would soon get much, much worse. Some soft of bug had erupted among the Hufflepuffs and an exploding cauldron had taken out part of the fifth year Ravenclaws during an extra credit assignment, plus the Gryffindor house claimed that there had an accident of some sort during a Quidditch practice. In her professional mind that explanation was utter bunk, unless practice had evolved into a spontaneous brawl with a few hexes thrown in for good measure. Just when she had been close to sorting everything out, a hemorrhaging Millicent Bullstrode had been escorted into the Infirmary by a concerned Draco Malfoy.

Millicent had been bleeding, and rather excessively so, from a wound Poppy believed to be self-inflicted. It had taken several Blood Replenishing Potions and a great deal of direct pressure before the wound had closed and the girl's blood had stopped gushing from her body. Her treatment accomplished, Draco had helped a wan Millicent leave the infirmary, but Poppy had already decided that she'd need to talk to Severus about Millicent.

Severus had taken his role of Head of Slytherin Head seriously and he always knew what was happening with his Slytherin students. He'd know if Millicent was prone to cutting. The girl had denied the accusations, but that had been a nasty, nasty wound.

Tomorrow, Poppy decided. That delicate conversation would have to wait until tomorrow when she'd be able to handle it with some finesse. Right now, her aching head was pounding, and the infirmary was blessedly empty except for Severus. Through decades of hard won experience, she had managed to create quick order out of the seeming chaos, and every student had been medicated, charmed, healed back to health and discharged back to their dorms within a matter of hours. Carefully, she checked in her only patient. From the doorway of his room Poppy saw that he was deeply asleep and she decided not to risk disturbing Severus further. With Albus no longer stalking Snape and the administration of a few safe potions, Severus was now sleeping most of the day and night. Rest was what his body needed in abundance to heal and his soul mend.

Hopefully, Severus would be strong enough then to deal with Hurricane Albus.

To be fair, Poppy couldn't truly blame Albus for being so… damn Albusy… that was the only way to describe how Albus had acted until Minerva had laid down the law.

It seemed that she had barely crawled into her bed, when a House Elf was not so gently waking her with a shrill cry.

"Mistress Poppy! Amiee is sorry to wake yous, but Amiee needs yous!"

When the House Elf told her there was a problem in Severus' room, she had thought that perhaps that he had a rough night. Instead to her horror, she found a rapidly disintegrating human shaped mess in Severus' bed.

"Get Filius here immediately. Then you're to wake Minerva and get her here." Then, as an afterthought, she decided that Albus needed to be made aware of the situation. "After Minerva is informed, you need contact the Head Master, and notify him that his presence is requested here. They are the only ones to be told."

Hesitantly, she pulled the covers down from the decaying mass, and exposed the remains. Then she began to cast intricate spells to determine how Severus had died. What had happened? What type of curse would do this?

* * *

"I agree with you completely," Filius assured the confused Mediwitch after he had judiciously poked, prodded and cast numerous magical spells on the remains. He left Severus' sickroom and then closed the door behind him. "I need to wash my hands, please."

After he had done so, the two of them joined Albus and Minerva who were already stationed in Poppy's private office.

"What ever that might have been, it wasn't Severus. It was a magical simulacrum, and it's a NEWT level charm. Someone put it in his bed, and Severus is no longer on the grounds of Hogwarts," Filius stated. "In my professional opinion, the spell wasn't cast correctly, as the simulacrum normally takes much longer to decompose."

"Then it's a real fear that he's been abducted once again," Minerva inserted. She uncertainly glanced at Albus, who was incongruously mute. He had Severus' sweater in his hands, and he was intently staring at it as though it would give him answers.

"It certainly seems likely as it's already happened to him once, but let us not jump to conclusions. Poppy, I understand that last night you were rather busy with an assortment of walking wounded. Can you tell us exactly who you saw and when?" Filius questioned.

Poppy dutifully reported every patient she had seen and treated. For good measure, she included every visitor and House Elf in her testimony. There was a long silence after she finished.

"Albus?" Minerva deliberately prompted the Head Master when it became obvious that everyone was expecting him to take charge.

"He'll be cold," Albus softly whispered. His tone was oddly uncertain.

"I beg your pardon?" Minerva was mystified by Albus' nonsensical answer. "He'll be cold?"

"Severus didn't take his sweater. I Charmed it so it would always fit him and keep him warm." Albus quietly explained. "He assured me that he liked it, yet he didn't take it. It's February, and Severus doesn't have a sweater. Severus feels the cold so easily. He'll be _cold_. Why didn't he take his sweater?"

"Albus, we must face the strong possibility that Severus was abducted," Minerva not so gently reminded Albus, even as she wondered why the older wizard was acting so bloody daft.

Filius tilted his head toward Albus and then gave a quick shake of his head.

"You'll need to handle this," mouthed Filius. "He's no good to us right now."

"I'll call the Order together," Minerva decided, after mustering her wits and becoming the very epitome of calm, efficient leadership. "After we establish exactly what has happened - if he was abducted and how he was removed from Hogwarts."

"You're correct, Minerva. We need to inform the Order, but Severus wasn't abducted, he ran," Albus inserted. "With help from a bleeding Millicent and a more than obliging Draco. We all know from whom he was fleeing; the only question is to whom did he run?"

"Albus, I highly doubt that Severus decided to run back to He Who Planned All This Mayhem for more abuse," Filius protested.

"He might have, if he believed that Voldemort was the safest of his rather limited options," Albus protested.

"I'll talk to Draco and Millicent," Poppy decided. "If this is a Slytherin plot, they might believe me when I tell them how sick Severus truly is. They won't believe the Head Master or the Gryffindor Head."

"I'd suggest you'd include Horace," Minerva suggested. "He is their Head of House."

They all agreed with their plan, except for a very subdued Albus who merely nodded his head in agreement.

* * *

Draco Malfoy kept his composure when he and Millicent were requested to see their House Head. Millicent, on the other hand, was apprehensive, and Draco knew that she'd spill her guts. Millicent was the weak link in Slytherin House.

"You're not to admit to anything, Millicent," he warned her. "You were the one that came to me and asked for advice. After speaking with my mother, she decided that we needed to help Professor Snape escape from the Head Master. There's no way they can prove that we had anything to do with his disappearance. "

"What if the Head Master is with him?" Millicent's former level of apprehension skyrocketed to an overwhelming fear. "Even if we don't admit to anything, he might just decide to expel us just because he can! Slughorn won't defend us, as he can't be bothered. He's the Head Master's man, after all."

"Mother will give me a private tutor. No doubt it will be a better education then this place. You can also be quite sure that it will be a proper instructor as Mother would never allow a werewolf to instruct me," Draco scoffed.

"My mum can't afford a private tutor!" Millicent softly protested.

Draco was thisclose to mocking the fearful Millicent by reminding her that her widowed mum could barely scrape enough knuts together to get her daughter a proper robe, but Millie was Slytherin House. If there was one adage that Severus Snape instilled into his students, it was that Slytherins stuck together, as no one else would defend them. "If you get expelled for helping Professor Snape, I'm quite sure my mother will arrange for you to be tutored."

The platinum haired Slytherin was rewarded for his largesse with a rare smile from Millicent. "Follow my lead," he instructed. "We know nothing. You were hurt, and I merely visited the Professor while you were being treated."

"I'm not smart like you," she confessed. "I'll do whatever you want."

* * *

To Millicent's relief, the Head Master wasn't involved with their discussion. No, instead it was Madam Pomfrey, but a different side of the Mediwitch. For one thing, she wasn't wearing her nurse's cap. Instead, her long silvery hair was neatly pulled back in a braid and she looked like a normal person. She was sitting in a chair, sipping a cuppa when he and Millicent arrived.

"Please sit down," Slughorn insisted. "We need to have a serious conversation with the two of you, and I hope you both understand our dire need for candor."

"Absolutely," Draco agreed, while Millicent softly parroted him.

"Very well then. Last night, Millicent, Mr. Malfoy was kind enough to escort you to the infirmary after hours. Madam Pomfrey informed me that she believed your injury to be self-inflicted, was it?" Horace's voice was surprisingly soft.

"No, I tripped and hurt myself," Millicent softly explained, refusing to meet Slughorn's concerned glance. "I'm very clumsy. I'm always getting hurt."

"Millicent? Please be honest with me," Horace repeated. His voice was full of distress. "It seems that you have a long history of visits to the Infirmary with suspicious wounds."

Millicent nodded her head once, and repeated the fact that she was very clumsy as she was always in a rush.

"I need to slow down," she insisted. Her eyes were still downcast, and she was staring at the floor.

"I've never found you clumsy in Potions," Horace informed her. "I always found your work very neat and precise. Poppy, you should see the way she cuts her roots, even you'd be happy with their consistency. Every root perfectly sized, every powder evenly ground. Millicent, medicinal potions ingredients need to be consistent, you understand. It's a rare talent that you have, Millicent, you should be proud of your skill."

He reached for Millicent's shoulder and gave it a friendly, reassuring squeeze.

The mediwitch nodded her head once in approval. "It is difficult to find someone willing to be that precise with potion ingredients. Severus often positively remarked on your skill to me, Millicent. He believes that you are quite talented."

Millicent had a rare blush of pleasure on her face, and Draco mentally groaned. Horace Slughorn was a master manipulator, and he knew exactly how to gain a wary Millicent's trust. No one ever gave Millicent compliments.

"Millicent, last night's injury was the worst of all the injuries you have suffered. You can protest that it was an accident, but the angle of the wound, the depth, the penetration and the severity of the wound refutes that idea. Millicent, it must have hurt you a great deal last night to inflict that on yourself," Poppy's voice was still soothing, though Draco could hear her concern.

Draco had to admit that he was uneasy at what he was hearing, as he realized that the Professor, if he had been healthy, would have heartily disapproved of the distraction responsible for his escape. When Millicent had suggested that she get Draco into the infirmary after visiting hours by hurting herself, he never bothered to find out much more than that. How she had hurt herself in order for them to gain access to the infirmary didn't factor into his equations until now. There had been a great deal of blood, Draco uneasily remembered, which a rather washed out Millicent had dismissed only as a necessary part of the needed distraction.

"Very well then. Draco, please step outside," Horace politely requested. "Millicent, we'll talk to you first. This should be only ten minutes or so therefore I'll appreciate you waiting, Draco."

Millicent still stuck with her story, doggedly insisting that she had accidentally hurt herself and Poppy gently mentioned, "You've been visiting Professor Snape a great deal lately, Millicent."

"He was my favorite teacher! Are you surprised that students might like Professor Snape?" Millicent's angry outburst was unexpected.

"No, no, no. Not at all. You've been quite helpful with him, and I appreciate it. Horace, Millicent often visits during her free periods to see if Severus needs anything. She is quite helpful in caring for him."

"Yes, Millicent might be an ideal candidate if you ever wish to take on a student assistant," Horace suggested.

"Now, another reason why I wanted to talk to you is so that you understand Severus' current medical regime and why he was still in the infirmary last night. Severus is truly ill, and he is need of constant medical care. His magical resources are dangerously depleted and his physical health is rather shaky," Poppy carefully explained. "This morning, I discovered that Severus has left Hogwarts. Did either of you help him leave? Did you deliberately cut yourself in order to create a distraction so he could escape?"

The Slytherin remained silent, and Horace gently asked the same question once more.

Silence was his reward.

"Millicent, you must believe us. We want to help Severus. Won't you assist us in helping him? He shouldn't be away from his friends at Hogwarts now," Horace stated. "I know I speak for the Head Master and my fellow instructors when I assure you that we want to help Severus. Did you help him leave?"

Millicent quietly snickered at Horace's heartfelt sincerity. The Potions Master pounced on his student's mocking derision.

"I am being quite serious, Millicent. Why don't you believe me?"

She shook her head, and refused to speak.

Horace began to press the issue, repeatedly insisting that the Hogwarts Staff was quite concerned about Severus. Finally, Millicent had enough.

"Professor Snape was afraid, that's why I helped him leave," Millicent proudly informed Slughorn. The suspicious student who rarely looked eye to eye to any Hogwarts instructor easily met his glance. "If you cared for him as much as you claimed, you would have helped him leave. Professor Snape taught us that Slytherins _**always**_ stick together."

"He was terrified?" Poppy gently questioned. "Please tell me more, Millicent."

"You took care of him; you must have heard him cry out during his nightmares. He _**pleaded**_ for someone to protect him. Professor Snape claimed he lost his arm on a Terror Tour. We checked, you know, and there wasn't a Terror Tour when Professor Snape was injured. We Slytherins know that Professor Snape wouldn't have just left us like he did. The only reason he'd lie to us about his arm was because he was terrified of who hurt him. There's only one reasonable explanation why he wouldn't wait to say goodbye to us before he supposedly resigned. He only 'resigned' after he had been maimed."

The Slytherin's dark brown eyes were apprehensive as she realized that she had said too much to the wrong people.

"Who hurt him?" Slughorn questioned. "Tell me, so I know that you've got the correct information."

"We all know who hurt him," Millicent insisted, the words spilling from her in spite of her best efforts to prevent them from escaping."I can only guess how scared Professor Snape was after he'd visit him because of his nightmares. That's why Slytherin House started visiting the Professor once we knew where he was, as that way, he wasn't alone and undefended when the Head Master visited him. Once we started keeping an eye on the Professor, he stopped harassing the Professor."

There was a long pause, and then Slughorn began to talk.

"Millicent, the Head Master didn't hurt Severus," Horace explained.

"_**Naturally**_," Millicent quickly agreed. But her voice held more than a smidgeon of skepticism.

"Severus is quite ill, Millicent. Without proper medical care he will die," Poppy explained. "I know this won't matter much to you, but I was a Ravenclaw when I was a student, but I will try to explain to you how imperative it is that Severus be found. Millicent, will you please believe me when I assure you that the Head Master is attempting to help Severus?"

Her sincerity caused Millicent to mockingly laugh.

"He told us that Professor Snape resigned," Millicent stridently protested. "The Professor was in the Infirmary all that time, and we believed that he had abandoned us! We should have known that the Professor wouldn't have done that! We should have trusted Professor Snape more! We know he must have fought with you and the Head Master before he was permitted to talk to us!"

"You created the distraction and Draco got him out of the Infirmary," Slughorn decided. "Very well, Millicent. You're dismissed."

"Are you going to tell _**him**_ what I said?" Her voice was uneasy. "Please don't, as he'll _**expel**_ me. He doesn't like us Snakes. That's the main reason why he got rid of the Professor, you know. The Professor was the only one that ever defended us. He would stand up to _**him**_ for us. You're Dumbledore's man, as you replaced Professor Snape. You'll tell him that I said!"

"Don't worry, he'll never know," Horace assured her.

"You're not lying, are you?" Millicent plaintively requested. "I know that you won't defend me like the Professor would. I'm not one of your Slugs. I'm nobody, and Professor Snape was the only Instructor that ever cared about me."

Deliberately, Horace put his hand on her shoulder and he squeezed.

"I promise you, Millicent, I will not let the Head Master expel you," Horace softly assured the student. "You are a fine example of Slytherin loyalty. You were right to help Severus, but we really need to find him. Do you have any idea where he's gone? What else did you do to help Severus?"

"No, I just told Draco how scared the Professor was, and how we needed to help him escape from the Head Master. Draco agreed that it was our turn to help him, and he planned everything. We took a collection, so he has roughly eighty seven galleons plus a handful of Muggle money. I thought that Muggle money might prove helpful in his escape."

"Go, Millicent, and you will forget this conversation. In fact, you'll remember that you've been quite taciturn, and succeeded in vexing the two of us by refusing to give us any concrete information," Horace advised her. "Have Draco come in."

Millicent seemed confused after their conversation ended. Poppy then reminded Millicent that she would require follow up care on her wound.

"I hope that you'll trust me enough to explain how you truly obtained that wound on your arm," Poppy stated. "I'll see you tomorrow, Millicent."

Millicent left the room and Poppy arched one eyebrow in silent condemnation over Horace's tactics.

"Yes, I bespelled the girl. We need information on Severus, do we not? The more truthful the information, the better it will be, no matter how painful. After Draco is interviewed and refuses to admit to anything, you must find Albus and inform him of the details. I don't dare try what I did on Millicent on Malfoy, as no doubt his aunt has Warded him. Albus especially needs to know that Slytherin House believes him the reason behind Severus' injuries. I'll work on serious damage control in my House. I'm getting old and sloppy; I should have realized how the students would react, but Albus' known anti-Slytherinism has added some very dark undertones…" Horace hissed. "Damn it, I warned Albus that I should have stayed retired!"

The door to his suite opened, and Horace growled.

"Come in, come in. Hopefully you will prove more informative than Millicent. She refused to admit to anything."

Draco quickly hid his relieved smile, but not fast enough. Both Horace and Poppy saw his quick smile and duly noted it.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was a brave man. He had defeated a former lover in a supernatural battle that was still currently dissected by magical scholars due to the sheer strength of the combatants. Therefore, he would attempt to face Poppy's report with the same dignity and strength of character that he had once faced Grindelwald. Now, as then, he had mishandled the situation, and he needed to face the consequences.

To give Albus credit, he attempted to be Gryffindor courageous but Dumbledore failed horribly. He winced when he heard Poppy's scathing report because he heard the truth in her tone.

"The Slytherin House holds you as responsible for the current situation; you decided it was time to replace Severus with a more malleable Instructor. It is a firmly held conviction among our Snakes that an injured Severus was hidden in the infirmary since he was removed as an Instructor. It also seems that Millicent is quite observant, and she figured out who was heavily featured in Severus' nightmares. She in turn told our Snakes who were quite determined to protect the professor they deemed as their protector. The Slytherins are quite proud of themselves, as they believe that once they mobilized to guard Severus in his sickroom, you stopped harassing Severus."

He nodded, and then spoke. "Horace?"

"Attempting to do some damage control among the Slytherin, but he was told in no uncertain terms that the House doesn't trust him. He's viewed as Dumbledore's Man and someone who is unlikely to put forth any effort to protect them from you."

"Any idea where Severus might be?" Minerva inserted.

"No, they gave him a collection of eighty seven galleons and some muggle money to help in his escape."

"Eight seven galleons? A House's most generous donation of their Hogsmeade weekend's funds." Albus softly commented. "A most munificent gift yet he won't get far on that. He'll need to go to the bank for additional funds. Thank you for your help, Poppy. Your information will prove quite helpful in locating Severus."

"Albus… I'd like to take Millicent under my wing for a bit. She has a tendency of the oddest injuries, and this last incident confirmed my dark suspicions that she's prone to cutting. The wound was pretty bad, Albus," Poppy admitted. "She did it willingly, Albus! That's what frightens me the most. Millicent believed that Severus was the only Instructor who cared for her, and she was willing to injure herself for him."

"Cutting," Albus echoed in a very soft tone. "Do what you see fit to help her. Perhaps you might suggest to Filius that he takes an interest in her? On a physical scale, he's unlikely to frighten her, and you might have difficulties as you're female. I believe it's just her mother and her, and Millicent's need to cut might reflect a troubled relationship with her mother."

Poppy nodded her head and then left.

"Minerva, if Slytherin House believes that I deliberately removed Severus from his position, that means Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff do also. That's bad enough, but for them to believe that I deliberately maimed Severus so he'd be unable to teach? But first, Severus left last evening, and the question is…. Where could he have gone?" Albus questioned.

"He had five options for transportation. Severus could have walked, which meant he wouldn't have gotten very far, flown via broom, but he's too weak to fly for long, Knight Bus, Side along Apparition or a Port Key," Minerva decided.

It was almost ironic, how easily Minerva was slipping in Albus' role as strategist.

"I need to go to the bank to find out if he's been there. I'll be back," Albus announced.

"You're not going by yourself," Minerva insisted. She physically blocked Dumbledore from entering the Floo. "Why is it necessary for me to repeatedly remind you that he's terrified of you?"

He stared at her for a moment, and Minerva believed that Albus was more than willing to walk over her in order to gain access to the Floo. Then he nodded his head in grim acceptance.

"Yes, it would be better for Severus if you came with me. Minerva, what happened yesterday between you two? I thought you said he seemed relieved that our Bonding was postponed?" questioned Albus.

"He seemed to be… but Severus was very subdued after we talked but he claimed he was exhausted," Minerva informed him. "He did ask about the position of Assistant Deputy Head Master."

"The money hasn't been allocated as I haven't proposed the position yet to the Governors. I wanted to speak with Severus further regarding the position, and tailor the job description so that he'd be the only acceptable candidate."

Albus was silent for a moment, and then he sighed.

"I fear that perhaps your conversation with him yesterday is the catalyst behind his flight. Did he believe that I was abandoning him? For good reason, Severus has no faith in my assurances," Albus reminded her. "It is important that we catch him before he gets to the bank. If he empties his bank account, it will be a violation of his probation. The Aurors will be informed as they'll believe that he's taken flight."

"It's been over fifteen years since you vouched for Severus, is he still on probation?" Minerva questioned.

"He's on probation for the rest of his life, Minerva. I've tried to keep his yoke light, but it still chaffs," Albus stated. "I need to contact Kingsley. If the Aurors believe he's a flight risk, I fear that Voldemort will be made aware through his contacts in the Ministry. I highly doubt that Severus has willingly returned back to Voldemort. Severus will then have the Aurors and the Death Eaters searching for him."

"And the Order," Minerva tartly reminded Albus. "Won't the Order be searching for him? You're not just letting Severus hang!"

"Who would I send after Severus? Sirius? Alastor? They would be far too eager to find Severus as they believe my trust in him is not justified. Remus? He would handle the matter with some tact, but Severus would react badly. After all, Remus has attempted to murder him twice, and now with the child to protect, Severus would kill him in what he views as justifiable self-defense."

"Arthur," Minerva retorted. "Molly, Aberforth… There are others that can be trusted with this responsibility."

"Aberforth? I do not wish my brother involved with this matter, as I can not bear to hear his opinion on this matter. He is quite vocal in some matters, and I do not wish to hear in detail how I have once more neglected my familial responsibilities. The bank, then Spinners End. Let us be off, Minerva," Albus stated. He then extended his arm to her and she took it. "First, we'll floo to the bank."

* * *

The ride on the Stagecoach was much easier on this queasy stomach then the Knight bus. The roads were bumpy, yes, but there was no chandelier swinging wildly to upset his equilibrium. Severus positioned himself carefully so he could keep an eye on the entrance to the bus, his wand hidden beneath his cloak, steady in his hand.

As much as his body craved sleep, he managed to stay awake until the bus reached his hometown. It was normally only a fifteen minute walk from the bus stop to where his home was located, but the cobbled roadway seemed to stretch on and on for miles. Many of the houses were vacant, long since boarded up to prevent vandals from breaking in, and it was an all together depressing place to live. The unquiet ghosts of his painful past hung heavily here, and Severus shivered in the chill morning air.  
_  
Don't you fret, Ari, you won't be living here. The Head Master will have you live at Hogwarts where you'll become the spoiled Pet of Gryffindor House. We'll be here for a few hours, as I need to take the next bus back to London. _

_It was risky, I know, to take public transportation here, but no one would expect me to take a bus. A port key, yes, but not a Muggle bus._

Carefully, Severus opened the door to his house, keeping his wand at the ready. His house appeared vacant and long since abandoned, but its appearance was just a glamour. Fortunately, the glamour wasn't dependant on his personal strength to keep it intact. His wards were also unbroken, which meant that no one had been here since he had last lived here.

_Don't be afraid, Ari. I'm just dropping off clothes here, grabbing some supplies… and I'll leave a note for Minerva. She'll be here, soon enough, and I'll have to ensure that she knows which books to sell. _

_In all honesty, she will sell them all, but there are a few volumes here and at the school that will ensure that you have a proper student wand. Yes, your father will no doubt wish to buy you the very best wand that Ollivander can offer, but I want to give your first wand to you. No doubt you'll wonder who I am, why a stranger gave you such a personal gift. The Head Master will not be forthcoming with the information, but Minerva will explain who I am. She has a kind soul, and no doubt she'll tell you exquisite lies about me, so at first, you won't be ashamed of me. In time, you will be humiliated to discover my role in your life, I know. _

_I'd bequeath you my student books so you'd get a proper education in the magical basics, but they are annotated with so many spells that I created that I pray that you'd never see them. You'd wonder what type of monster would create such horrible spells. _

_I created those spells for defense, Ari. Defense! When the werewolf attacked me and the Head Master did nothing, I knew then how little my life was worth. I had always believed that I was worthless, but to comprehend how little value your father placed on my life, I knew then that I had to be ready to defend myself against IT. _

He worked hurriedly, attempting to keep focused on his goal. Leave everything that Dumbledore had given him at the house; exchange it for the Muggle Clothing. Fortunately, all his old clothes still fit as he had lost weight during his ordeal. When his clothes were in danger of exploding from the building pressure of his expanding abdomen, he'd visit a charity shop and rummage for clothes.

Actually, maybe he better move that to top of things he needed to do. He needed a jumper and a parka of some sort. Antenatal vitamins, also, as Poppy had insisted he take them. There was no time for neatness; anyone that came to his house would realize that he had been here.

He found his stash, all the money he had managed to squirrel away. It wasn't much, and he wasted precious time counting and recounting it in the hopes it would multiply, but it would be enough to let a room for the next few months. That done, Severus staggered away from his home and back towards the bus station, looking for all the world like a legless drunk.

Truth was, he was shattered, working on the last dredges of his energy. He barely made the bus back to London, and no matter how much he tried, he could not keep his eyes open. The bumps and the swaying of the bus lulled him into a sleep haunted by nightmares of a furious Head Master who had discovered his escape. When he finally woke, it was morning and he was in London.

Another Tube ride was necessary, and before long, he was standing near the intersection of Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley. As always, the snowy white building of Gringotts towered over all neighboring shops. He entered through a set of bronze doors and then through the set of silver doors before entering the lobby. It was barely past opening hours, so the bank was rather busy.

He was mentally counting the seconds, anxiously waiting for the moment when Albus Dumbledore, having discovered his flight, would swoop in and capture him. Then the incubator would be returned back to Hogwarts where he'd serve out his lifetime sentence. Hopefully, he'd live long enough to see his daughter.

His nerves were shot by the time a small Goblin informed him that he was next customer to be served.

"I'd appreciate a full bookkeeping for the account of Severus Tobias Snape," he politely requested.

You always spoke politely to Goblins, as they were touchy and prone to fits of bad temper. The Goblin muttered disparaging comments that he was meant to hear about Severus' lack of responsibility in reference to money matters.

"I've been ill, and have not been able to oversee my monthly accounting," Severus calmly stated. For good measure, he glanced at his empty left sleeve.

The Goblin's shrewd eyes followed Severus' glance and then the Goblin flinched when he saw the empty sleeve. Goblins were notorious about their touchiness regarding physical deformities, as they had experienced millennia of slights over their short stature and rude jokes about the size of their feet, ears and other body parts. It was the very height of rudeness for a Goblin to notice such things.

"Very well, Mr. Snape," the Goblin's voice was almost apologetic, as if a Goblin could actually be contrite. "Let's take this to a private area."

* * *

Something was seriously amiss with his bank account. The monthly withdrawal for St. Helga's had taken place in January and there hadn't been enough in his account to cover it. There was an accounting charge for insufficient funds plus another fee for the paperwork required. Someone… Minerva?... had deposited enough money in his account to cover the deficit in mid-January, but he hadn't collect a single knut from Hogwarts since February 1st.

"St. Helga's didn't attempt to withdraw payment again?" Severus intently questioned.

His bank account made no sense!

"No, after their first attempt failed due to a lack of funds, they didn't attempt again," the Goblin's voice was dry, not bothering to hide his contempt for those that did not have sufficient cash to cover their expenses.

"I had someone who said that they'd watch my finances while I recovered. They've completely bollocked it all up. I will require my account to be closed, as I need to make immediate payment to St. Helga's for my mother's care."

Severus rubbed his aching head, and wondered why the Head Master had decided to stop paying his accrued sick times. He should have had another month's worth of sick pay, and to make his account current at St. Helga's, Severus would have to delve into his emergency fund.

Merlin's scrote, St. Helga's hadn't just thrown his mother out in the street?

The Goblin hemmed and hawed, but after another long, curt discussion with the Goblin, Severus succeeded in pulling his savings out of the bank, and left. He was in the mass exodus from the bank when he heard a man in the crowd call out a friendly greeting to someone who was just about to enter the building.

"Albus! Albus Dumbledore! What are you doing out of Hogwarts? Don't tell me they let you skive off today!"

"Just needed to do some banking," was the cheery reply. "It's a lovely day for an outing, isn't it, Ephraim?"

"Actually, Albus, I'm finding the weather rather brisk!"

"It's invigorating! Don't you agree, Minerva?"

Overwhelmed by his fear, he did not bother to hear if Minerva agreed with Albus' positive assessment of the weather. Instead, Severus grabbed his wand, and recklessly Disapparated to St. Helga's.

* * *

He landed hard on his knees at St. Helga's Home for the Magically Feeble, and it took repeated attempts for him to stand. When Severus finally gracelessly staggered to his feet, he was pleased to discover that he had managed not to Splinch himself. All parts were apparently accounted for.

_Stupid dunderhead! Sheer and utter recklessness! I could have hurt Ari!_

_But I couldn't let him find us!_

Severus managed to stagger to the front desk, and he politely greeted the witch. As always, St. Helga's was a dingy mess, but it was the best care that he could once afford.

"I'd like to see Eileen Prince, please," he requested. Propriety demanded that he should first pay his comatose mother a visit, and then he'd make his account current.

The rather bored witch appeared confused by his request and then she went through the long list of residents. Three times she went through the long list, and then she shook her head.

"There's no resident here with that name," she explained in a faux cheerful tone. "Are you sure she's here? Perhaps she's at St. Helda's? People often get us confused."

St. Helda's Home for the Magically Feeble was one thousand galleons more per month. There was no way in heaven or hell would anyone possessing one single brain cell could confuse the two hospices.

"Eileen Marie Prince Snape?" Severus repeated his mother's name slowly as though he was dealing with a particularly daft first year.

Again, he was rewarded with the same result. Confusion, and then the dense witch re-examined the list.

"No one here with that name," was her chirpy answer.

"She was here in _**December**_," he desperately protested. "I visited her just before Christmas."

"No longer here," she assured him in a cheery tone. "Perhaps she passed on?"

The incongruity of her happy, clappy tone with the subject matter infuriated a mentally drained Severus.

"I wish to find out what happened to her," Severus insisted. "Can you tell me? Is there anyone here that might be able to answer such a simple question?"

"Let me get a supervisor," the front desk witch decided as she rapidly realized that the one-armed man in front of her was determined to make an ugly scene. "Can you take a seat?"

Severus refused to take a seat, knowing full well that once he sat down, he'd never be able to stand. Sheer pride was keeping him on his feet, and nothing else. A witch with platinum dyed blond hair arrived, and she ushered him into a small room.

"Eileen Prince? What has happened to her?" His tone was brusque. He was shattered, and possessed little energy for polite niceties such as a civil tone.

"We're not at liberty to discuss where she is due to the recent Privacy in Medical Records Act. You'll need to speak to a family member." The witch gave him a very vacant smile that was supposed to be comforting and understanding.

"I'm her _**son**_, Severus Tobias Snape! I hold her proxy for her healthcare decisions, and no one has told me what has happened to my mother! What have you done with her? I know my account is in arrears, but I have been seriously ill since Christmas. You didn't just throw her out in the street because you didn't receive my timely payment, did you?"

"No! No! Mr. Snape, let me find her records. I'm sorry that I didn't immediately recognize you. You've lost a great deal of weight. Let me find her chart." She gave him an apologetic smile and then she began rummaging through a cabinet. "You've really lost a great deal of weight."

_Don't worry. I'll be putting back on all that lost weight plus a great deal more in the next few months. _

He continued to stand, refusing to admit any weakness. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his wand. How much of it had he recklessly squandered in his haste for flight? To his surprise, the wand was still charged. Not completely, but he hadn't drained it entirely. There was enough left in the reserve to allow him to put up a good fight if he needed to do so.

"Mr. Snape? You're not in arrears with your mother's care. Albus Dumbledore…"

His stomach dropped to his knees when he heard that name.

"…came here in January after your account had insufficient funds. He produced this."

The care manager of St. Helga's handed him a legal document that stated Albus Dumbledore had complete control over the decisions of Eileen Marie Prince Snape if Severus was ever incapacitated. He knew damn well that he had never signed such a document, but it still was his handwriting on the document.

"He paid your mother's account and he insisted on removing her from our care. Mr. Dumbledore was quite vocal in his displeasure over her condition and her surroundings."

"He's hopelessly naïve about such things," Severus half-heartedly explained. "He's never had to face the reality of hospice care, nor its expense. Do you have any idea where she was transferred?"

"The Hospice of St. Barbara. I can find the address for you," the administrator explained. "I must confess that I'm surprised he didn't inform you of his decision."

"I'm really not officially discharged from the hospital," Severus quickly admitted. Sometimes a bit of the truth was all that was necessary to make a lie that much more believable. "I think he was waiting until I was stronger before he informed me of his unilateral decisions."

"That's likely," but her tone conveyed her uncertainty. "Here's the address."

She handed him a small card, and he mentally sighed when he saw the address. He had a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea, either the Tube and then the Muggle stagecoach or the Knight Bus.

"Thank you. I appreciated the gentle care you gave my mother all these years." It was a lie, but he couldn't imagine the stress of dealing with the dead and dying every single day. It was in all likelihood a job far worse than instructing Potions to witless wonders.

Before his stomach had even settled, he was once more on the Knight Bus, watching the chandelier swing wildly during each leap and bound. Stan Shunpike, still aggrieved over Severus' earlier stinginess with regards to the tip Stan believed he had rightfully earned, had barely confirmed that Severus was physically on the bus before Ernie had gunned the motor to the next destination.

Fortunately for Ari's sake, he had landed on a buxom witch who hadn't minded him in her lap.

"Let me be the next stop," Severus pleaded. "Let it be soon!"

* * *

"I'd like an accounting of Severus Tobias Snape's account please. As you see by this documentation, I have legal supervision of his financial matters, and I'm supposed to check the figures every year."

Albus bequeathed the Goblin a winning smile, which merely caused the unimpressed Goblin to growl in disgust. His bright smile didn't fade at all even when the Goblin muttered how Albus had never previously checked the account. Goblins took financial responsibilities very seriously and Albus' lackadaisical attitude toward Severus' financial matters was an unforgivable insult to the clerk's strict sense of propriety.

"Follow me," the Goblin ordered briskly.

"This doesn't sound promising," Minerva whispered as they followed the Goblin into a private conference room.

"Mr. Snape closed his account recently," the Goblin explained after the three of them sat down. "In fact, he closed it fifteen minutes ago by withdrawing all the funds. I asked Griphook to attend this meeting, as he dealt with Mr. Snape. He will be here shortly."

Albus' blue eyes narrowed when he heard that the account was closed. He examined the produced paperwork and he sighed.

"They didn't pay his disability payment for this month. Damn paperwork, I submitted it three times in triplicate like they requested. I'd like to please deposit this into his account," Albus explained.

He put a small purple bag on the table and he carefully pushed it toward the Goblin.

"His account has been closed," the Goblin curtly explained, and he refused to accept the bag.

"Can you not 'unclose' it by depositing that small amount?" Albus hopefully questioned. "I should have checked that he was receiving his disability stipend."

"The account has been closed by Mr. Snape, and per the directives on the account, we have submitted documentation regarding the closure to both the Ministry of Magic and yourself. We can not 'unclose' it."

"As always I'm impressed by the efficiency of your bank," Albus' voice did not sound particularly impressed, and in fact, sounded suspiciously like less than chuffed. "Therefore, since you can not 'unclose' his account, I would like to open a new account for Severus Tobias Snape. Once I get his disability payments straightened out, he will need an account in which to have the funds deposited."

Griphook's contribution to their conversation was minimal. He stated that Severus had asked about the payments to his mother's hospice care, and then had withdrawn all his funds to pay for her hospice care. The two goblins then left the room, letting Minerva and Albus continue their conversation in private.

"I informed him that I had handled his mother's care, Minerva. Damn it, he's succeeded in bringing the Ministry's attention upon himself. I can not believe that we just missed him!" Albus questioned.

"He would have to exit using the same entrance that we entered. There was a rather loud noise when you were talking to Ephriam. It sounded like a particularly sloppy Disapparation," Minerva reminded Albus. "Could that have been him? His wand has sufficient power to allow him to Disapparate."

"Damn it, he's gone to St. Helga's to settle his account. Minerva, you need to go there immediately," Albus instructed. "I need to set up this new account for Severus, and then I must see the Minister of Magic. I hope I can convince Rufus Scrimgeour not to dispatch the Aurors after Severus. Hopefully, Rufus can understand Severus' real fear of his comatose mother being cast out on the street because her account was in arrears. Minerva, if Severus is not there, you'll need to go directly to the Hospice of St. Barbara. I'll meet you at St. Barbara's. If you see him, you must convince him to return to Hogwarts by any means necessary, Minerva."

"He won't willingly return, Albus," Minerva tartly reminded him.

"He'll be sentenced to Azkaban, Minerva. There will be a trial, a very lengthy, highly publicized trial. I would guess that the verdict will be returned in _**six**_ or so months, Minerva."

Minerva's face fell, as she realized what that meant.

"I'll do my best," promised the Scottish witch.

* * *

The minute he stepped into the grounds of the Hospice of St. Barbara, Severus knew that there was no way he'd ever be able to pay for his mother's care. There was a large pond with a school of goldfish… GOLDFISH… and there were a few peacocks that indolently strolled through the flower gardens.

_**Peacocks**_! That luxury probably added fifty galleons per bird on each month's bill!

It also didn't smell like a hospice. No, it smelled clean, and was that the aroma of baking bread?

A front desk clerk greeted him as he stepped into the atrium.

"May I be of assistance?" The witch asked in a normal tone. Her voice didn't reek of good cheer, the witch sounded sincerely happy about life and her job.

That meant another seventy five galleons per month!

"My name is Severus Snape. I believe my mother was transferred here? Her name is…" Severus stated.

"Eileen Prince, yes. She's in room B106. Take a left and then it's the third room on your right. Is it your first time here? I have to confess that you look a little perplexed," the receptionist stated.

"Yes," he admitted, more than a trifle bit alarmed by her efficiency. "She was transferred here while I was ill. I've been seriously ill… recently…"

His voice trailed off, as he grew more and more convinced that there was no way in hell he'd ever be able to pay for his mother's care.

"Let me get the Supervisor. She'll explain to you what care your mother is receiving and her prognosis."

His mother's prognosis was status asparagus. He bit his tongue so not to state _**that**_ to the happy receptionist. It wasn't his mother's fault that her heart continued to beat while her mind had gone a burton. No, that was completely and utterly Tobias Snape's responsibility.

"Mr. Snape? I'm Sister Elizabeth, I oversee your mother's care," said a new voice. "If you'll come with me?"

Meekly, he followed the auburn haired nurse down the bright hallways. There were paintings! _**PAINTINGS**_! On the hallways, and he mentally added another hundred galleons to the monthly bill.

"It's a very good thing for your mother that she was transferred here. She had open bedsores! Bedsores, Mr. Snape! I hate to disparage another hospice, but they were not very consistent in their care." Her brisk tone conveyed disapproval and Severus felt as though he was five years old. "Open bedsores are only the result of gross neglience!"

"It was the best care that I could afford," he weakly protested.

Her eyes softened and she comfortingly patted him on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Mr. Snape. You entrusted those…. _People_… with your mother's care, and they didn't follow their care plans. Bedsores are unacceptable!" Sister Elizabeth's voice carried down the hallway. "You probably won't recognize her as our mediwitch has completely revised her medications. I believe that they were _**drugging**_ her to make her more manageable."

"Sister Elizabeth… how much is the monthly bill here?" He questioned. "I have cash for this month's payment, but I worry that I will be unable to pay for her care. I've been ill, seriously ill, and I don't have a steady income as I've lost my job."

She named a figure, and he nearly physically collapsed from the shock.

There was no way he'd ever be able to afford that on a teacher's salary. Only Filius, with a salary boosted by a century's worth of longevity pay, would be able to easily pay that!

_Head Master, couldn't you have picked a cheaper hospice, perhaps one without the bloody peacocks? _

"I will need to have her transferred as I'm afraid that I can not afford that," he admitted. "This is a lovely place, but I don't have the funds to keep her here."

"Mr. Snape, your mother's care is paid for the next five years," Sister Elizabeth gently explained. "There was an older gentleman that oversaw her transfer and he insisted on sparing no expense. Rest assured, your mother is receiving top of the line care. I believe that her personal aide has just finished styling her hair and she should be receiving her manicure now."

"Manicure?" He questioned, disbelieving what he was hearing. "She's getting a _manicure_?"

"Yes, finger nails and toe nails are part of our strict policy on patient hygiene. If we don't keep an eye on them, nails turn into _**claws**_, Mr. Snape. Patient hygiene is of utmost importance here!" Sister Elizabeth's tone was harsh, and Severus had to force himself not to stare at his remaining hand to confirm that his nails were neat and presentable.

If he remembered correctly, he had bit them down and they were looking rather ratty.

"Hairstyling? Manicures? Pedicures? What other treatments is my mother receiving?"

"Massage treatment, musical therapy, physiotherapy…" Sister Elizabeth paused and then looked at him. "We also offer massage therapy for patient's family as part of our all inclusive program. If you wish to make use of it, all you need to do is book an appointment. After all, you're part of your mother's care, and if you're stressed, then she'll be anxious. Very well, here we are! Marion, Mr. Snape is here to visit his mother. If you don't mind leaving so he can have some privacy?"

A brunette mediwitch curtsied, and then left the room.

It was a wide open room, light, airy and free of any of the all too familiar, reeking smells of hospice. There was even classical music softly playing in the background. His mother was in a large regular bed and she was wearing a cheerful dressing gown. His mother's gray hair was neat, and to his surprise, she wore a _smile_ on her face.

He had never seen her smile before, all his memories of his mother consisted of her sullenness or anger, never joy. To his further astonishment, there were numerous pictures of Severus on her chest of drawers, and he closely examined the pictures.

Definitely the Head Master's input, as Severus was wearing his Instructor's Robes in every picture. There were even faded pictures of his grandparents, Marcus and Emma Prince from their Hogwarts' days. The Head Master had gone through the Hogwarts' archives to find numerous pictures of him for a comatose woman who couldn't have cared any less about her son when she had been aware.

"Good morning, Eileen. Severus is here to visit," Sister Elizabeth loudly stated. Then in a quieter tone, she asked Severus if he'd like some tea. "You look rather peaked. Do you want anything to eat? Perhaps a scone with clotted cream and jam?"

"That would be lovely," he admitted, as while he wasn't hungry, he knew that Ari needed nourishment. "But I need decaffeinated tea please."

He silently sat next to his mother, trying to settle his maelstrom of emotion that he always felt toward his mother. He loved her, as Eileen was his mother, but still he hated her as she had never stopped Tobias' abuse. Yet, he had never stopped hoping that one day, he'd earn her love.

_I shouldn't be angry with her, Ari. She didn't love me enough to defend me from Tobias. You won't have to worry about that, as I love you so much. I'll protect you from the Dark Lord and the Head Master. I'll defend you, if it's the very last thing I do. _

_But I must admit that my twisted liaison with your father has striking similarities to my relationship with my mother. Why do I always love people that will never return my affection? Am I fundamentally flawed, Ari?_

"Now, as much as your mother is overjoyed that you're visiting, you don't look as though you should be out of your hospital bed. Don't overstay your welcome as I don't want you to have a relapse," the Sister sternly informed him when she delivered the tea to him. "You don't want to upset your mother by collapsing."

"I may not be back soon," he regretfully admitted. "I need to find steady employment."

"We'll take good care of her. I will take of your mother as though she was my own," the mediwitch promised.

How could he answer that proclamation but with a sincere thank you?

He stayed long enough to finish his tea and the very last crumb of his scone. His brekkie finished, he attempted to leave the building but before he succeeded, he heard a very familiar Scottish brogue.

"So her son is visiting Eileen?" Minerva McGonagall questioned. "That's _**wonderful**_. The poor lad was seriously ill and he hasn't been able to visit her since December."

_Minerva! MINERVA! No doubt your father has sent your Auntie Minnie after me! _

Fortunately, there was an empty room nearby, so he entered that room to hide. He saw Sister Elizabeth and Minerva McGonagall enter his mother's room, and then he slipped down the hallway. He was about to enter the atrium when he heard someone apologizing for knocking over a planter.

"How did you ever become an Auror, Dora?" Kingsley Shacklebolt questioned.

"My winsome personality. They needed someone perky and vivacious to balance you and MadEye's delightful personalities."

"Enough chattering," stated another voice. "This is a serious situation. He's broken his parole and your cheek can only lead to problems. He's bloody dangerous, Severus Snape is, and Albus Dumbledore was a fool to vouch for him."

_Darrin Proudfoot. Kingsley Shacklebolt and that damnable pink haired wench who needed regular rabies shots as she was shagging a werewolf and a mutt! _

Bloody hell, Minerva on one side of him, and the Order AND the Aurors on the other. He had an uneasy suspicion that assorted Death Eaters were even now converging on the perimeter of the Hospice of St. Barbara.

_Ari, forgive me, but I need to do this once more. _

He grabbed his wand, concentrated on his need to Disapparate to a location where he'd be safe from everyone. Concentrating on his overwhelming desire for safety, he made ready to Disapparate.

_I need a place where we can be safe for the next few months, where no one can find us. Not the Head Master, not the Order, not the Aurors and certainly not the Dark Lord. _

It was a Blind Jump, the very personification of sheer magical irresponsibility, and he closed his eyes.

With a crack, he Apparated into what he believed was an alley way. Severus collapsed to his knees, and then his much abused stomach rebelled. Up came the clotted cream, jam, scone and decaffeinated tea. When he was finished with that, he threw up various stray organs that he didn't need such as his appendix, his liver and then a few toenails.

He stayed where he was, panting, and he knew that he was being watched. Severus looked up and saw a large, aristocratic blue grey cat staring at him. Its intelligent green eyes reminded him of Minerva in her animagus form, and it blinked once.

"Enjoying the raree show?" Severus spat.

The cat blinked once more and then walked away from him, its tail held high. Its black nose was crinkled in disgust from the smell of Severus' brekkie.

"Just need to rest for a bit. Then I'll get up," Severus promised himself. "Just as soon as the world stops spinning."

He dragged himself away from the remains of his breakfast, and he crawled next to the brick wall. Leaning on it for support, he closed his eyes. It was raining, and the cool mist felt good against his feverish skin.

"I'll get up…" Severus promised himself. "Just let me rest five minutes…"

Closing his eyes, he kept reminding himself that he needed to stand but his exhausted body refused to cooperate.

"Grisha! You damn, demanding cat. I'm following you! I'm following you! Stop your caterwauling."

Someone was in the alley way, and he struggled to stand. He would meet his enemies standing tall and proud. For all his determination, it took most of his remaining energy just to open his eyes.

"Easy, easy," said an older female. Her heavy accent made it hard for him to understand what she was saying. She made a soothing gesture with her hands. "Stay where you are."

Eastern European accent, Severus thought. Where the _**hell**_ had he landed?

"Sasha?" the female softly questioned.

A male answered, and Severus tried to concentrate on the second figure. He was bearded, and he wore his long white hair tied back in a braid. The man was intently staring at Severus. With his right hand, he made a hooking gesture, and muttered something unintelligible.

"_Chto za huy!" _ was the startled man's next comment.

"Sasha!" The woman protested his remark in what Severus believed was a spat of evil sounding Russian. The man answered in kind, and Severus closed his eyes. Let the two strangers argue all day, he'd nap until it was time for him to partake in the conversation. Then his strength regained, he'd be victorious in their altercation.

"It is agreed then, Sasha?" The woman questioned.

"Da! What choice do we really have? He's apparently fallen from the Heavens, and is need of our assistance. **_Serendipity_**!"

Least that's what Severus believed Sasha said, as his Eastern European pronunciation was stronger than the woman's accent.

"Come with me, Adrik. I'll fix you a nice herbal tea. Perhaps peppermint will help settle your stomach? I'll clean your wounds, as you're bleeding, Adrik. A nice mixture of calendula, yarrow and wheatgrass extract will patch you up, and prevent your fair skin from scarring."

Adrik? Why was she calling him Adrik? Calendula, yarrow and wheatgrass extract? Merlin's scrote! He had fallen in with two rogue Russian herbologists? Pomona Sprout would be laughing if she only knew!

"Who are you?" He gasped. He pulled away from her as his stomach began to rebel once more. It would do him no good to vomit on these two strangers.

"I am Oxana, the rather uncouth fellow is Sasha. Can you stand, Adrik?" Oxana questioned.

"Yes," he assured her, but Sasha decided to handle matters in his own unique style.

"I just read your chakras, Adrik, you're too weak to stand. Put your arm around my neck," he stated. "I'll carry you."

Severus did so, and then Sasha slid his arms under Severus' body. The older man was stronger than Severus expected, as he was able to easily pick up Severus. Grisha made a loud purring noise as he followed Sasha out of the alley way. It seemed that the cat was quite satisfied with himself, and that he craved suitable adulation from his adoring attendants.

That damn cat, there was something about that damn cat that reminded Severus of a Kneazle. Why couldn't he remember? It wasn't a Kneazle, wasn't even a cross breed… but what was it?

"Yes, you'll get some fish, Grisha," Oxana promised the cat. "Adrik needs our help first."

The cat murmured its understanding and promised patience.

"Where am I? Who are you? Where are you taking me?" Severus imperiously questioned.

"You're in Manchester," Oxana explained. "We've already told you who we are, and right now Sasha is taking you into Serendipity, which is our shop. You'll be stripped of your wet clothes and placed into a warm bed."

"Then you're being dosed with a tasty brew of malabar nut, feverfew and astragalus," Sasha added. "We'll need to rub you down with an oil made of fennel, lemon, lavender and valerian."

"Let me down! I don't need you to dose me! You're not rubbing me down with oil."

The two crazed Herbologists ignored his strident protests, and Severus wondered if he had gone from the frying pan directly into the fire. When they stripped him of his clothes, and began pouring assorted herbal components down his throat, he began to wonder if perhaps he had made a serious mistake running away from Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, Grisha the familiar contentedly purred.

Even for an Archangel cat, Grish liked fish a great deal, and he hoped his two mages would promptly present him with his fish. He was required to notify them whenever he noticed the presence of another mage, and he took that responsibility very seriously.

* * *

A/N # 2 - "_Chto za huy!" roughly translates to "What the Frack?" in Russian. Or so I've been assured._

A/N # 3 - thanks to whitehound, who told me that Severus caught the megabus a few years too early. :)

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

A/N #1 An Archangel cat is actually a breed also known as the Russian Blue, which is a different cat than a Britain Blue.

* * *

Severus had been frightened many times in his life. But this was the very first instance that Severus Snape could truthfully claim that he had his pants scared off him. Well, not only his pants had been scared off him, but also his jumper, trousers, his light weight parka and Merlin be damned, his socks and shoes.

He was bloody starkers, lying completely and utterly stark bollock naked in a stranger's bed, though the two crazed Russian Herbologists had given him the courtesy of a strategically placed blanket to cover his bits. They had merrily slathered him with assorted herbal topical pastes and poultices, dosed him with a bitter tincture followed by a surprisingly pleasant tasting tisane all the while chatting at high speed in a language he couldn't recognize. But they had ignored his feeble protestations that he truly needed to know what was in the ingredients with a non-reassuring, 'Don't you worry'.

If he had any physical strength remaining, he would have stormed out of there, starkers or not, when Sasha had gently palpated his abdomen and man boobs with his heavily callused hands. But his physical reserves were empty and so he had suffered his treatment. Enduring the unendurable was his personal specialty, after all

He had his pride, still, and at least he wasn't a cheap grope. Thank Merlin, his body was too shattered to even think of responding to Sasha's teasing, feather light touch.

"It's important," Severus somehow managed to find the strength to verbally protest his treatment. "I'm highly allergic…what's in it?"

"Very well then, this paste consists of autumn crocus, barberry, feverfew, ginseng, golden seal, juniper, kava, male fern, mandrake, pennyroyal, poke root, rue, sage, southernwood, tansy, thuja, and wormwood," the male informed him. "Plus a dash of fake unicorn horn. I'd not waste real unicorn horn on you as it's rather dear. We'll be infusing you with a tincture of the same later on."

That list stopped Severus cold as it was a proverbial ingredients list of what he was most assuredly not to have. Also, the list of ingredients was a proverbial mishmash of herbals. What the hell were they doing? They were treating him for sugar, arthritis and migraines among a host of various chronic conditions, soothing his agitated, spastic digestive system…. preventing him from conceiving…._promoting uterine contractions_….

"No," he whispered. "Stop… stop… You can't give me that!"

"Come now, you can't be allergic to all that! You'd be dead by now!" Sasha jovially exclaimed.

"Sasha, you're being cruel," Oxana gently protested. "I can assure you, Adrik, that there are none of those ingredients in your treatment. At the moment, Sasha is attempting to realign and stabilize your ch'i. He's been tracing out your meridians, and attempting to determine what their current statuses are."

"Your ch'i flow is in serious disarray which help explains why your health is compromised. It is crimped and restricted in some meridians, roaring through your other meridians like a river overflowing its banks, and there's something merrily _**gorging**_ itself on your chi'i. I've never seen anything like this," admitted Sasha. "I'd thought I'd seen everything, but this… is unusual."

"How utterly reassuring," sniped Severus.

He instinctively flinched after he voiced that comment.

If the Head Master had been here, he would have struck Severus for his cheek. Hadn't Albus attempted to train him out of his need to constantly snark? When the futile exercises in politeness had failed, Albus had decided it had been necessary to beat him to break his customary habit of insolence. Hadn't he experienced the Cruciatus Curse numerous times loving bestowed by the concerned Head Master? He'd weep and plead that next time, he'd conduct himself in a manner in which Albus would approve, swear that he'd be better behaved next time, but at the next opportunity, he always failed. Then Albus would be forced to punish him again.

No… that hadn't been the real Head Master. That had been the fauxHead Masters… right? He couldn't remember… as his memories were in such a jumble!

"Now don't give up, Adrik. I've read about cases comparable to yours and fortunately, I still possess the book," Sasha serenely stated. "Next treatment will require massage and acupuncture. Once your ch'i is realigned, your jing and your shén will to be next. I've done all that I can for now, Oxana."

"Here, let me cover you, Adrik," Oxana suggested. "You look worn-out, and these treatments are far more draining for the patient then you currently realize."

Oxana then pulled the assorted sheets and blankets over him before she tucked him into bed. Her ministrations finished, she placed the back of her hand against his forehead. Her thoughtfulness and the way she buffered the worst of Sasha reminded him so strongly of Minerva that he instinctively trusted her.  
_  
She's not Minerva, don't be fooled into trusting her!_ _You're drowning, desperate for any hand to grab, and you have to realize, you can't trust either of them!_

"He's quite feverish, Sasha. You shouldn't tease him." Her tone was disapproving as she chastised Adrik. "He nearly had a heart attack when he heard that list."

"Oxana, I was merely wondering if Adrik would actually admit to me why that list would be contraindicated in his care. Come now, you're visibly familiar with potion ingredients, Adrik, and your hand has scars from old burns. You possess a wand, a most remarkable wand as it appears to have been charged with magical energy. It seems that you were a wizard of some considerable strength but you've been weakened by your … condition."

The penetrating look Sasha gave Severus made it obvious that both Oxana and Sasha knew that he was up the duff. Could a man not have any secrets? Ariana was a private, personal matter after all, and he hadn't even told his mother about her grandchild-to-be.

"Who are you?" Severus hoarsely whispered.

Not terribly witty. Not a comment to induce fear and a grudging respect in his current captors which in turn might lead to better treatment… but still a reasonable request.

"No one of importance," Sasha easily answered. "But you, my dear friend, are going to be extremely problematic. You've come dangerously close to utterly burning yourself out, and between that and your underlying condition, your body is intent on consuming itself. You are also running from two very powerful wizards, friend Adrik. One who would style himself as a Dark Lord in the manner of Gellert Grindelwald. He has tattooed you with his mark, and while it's physically no longer there, it still taints your soul. I'm assuming the brand was on your missing arm, but the reason why you're missing your left arm is unknown to me. Who removed it? You? Him?"

Oxana hissed, and made a warding gesture.

"And one who would oppose the second Grindlewald has seemingly consecrated you not only with his blessing but his seed. Therefore it is most probable he that removed your arm in order to prevent its contamination from adversely affecting his child." Sasha paused, as though searching for the right words to say. "You run from them both, and due to your sloppiness, they will follow you here to our doorstep. Tell me why, for the greater good, I shouldn't just dose you with saltpeter and birthbane and leave you in an alleyway far, far, far away from here for them to find your dead body. They'll fight over your body, I'm sure, and it will be a match unlike any others in all of recorded history…"

"Well… at least from 1945," Oxana tartly inserted.

"It still will be a duel to watch, Oxana. I wonder if age has slowed him down any or if the old sly fox has gotten sneakier."

The sheer casualness of Sasha's voice was what disturbed Severus the most. Not the reality that Sasha knew far too much of his personal traumas, but the mage's composed, serene tone. Yes, Sasha would dose him with birthbane and saltpeter then dump his body in an alley and not think twice regarding the matter.  
_  
But, but… but you carried me into your shop! Why did you just not leave me outside in the alley to die? Didn't you just tell me that I'd be receiving another treatment? I don't understand! Are you testing me? To determine my mettle? I'll fail your damn test! Hallowed St. Albus Dumbledore, renown far and wide for his kindly, generous nature, the blessed defender of Muggles and other less fortunate, washed his hands of me, so how can I dare hope that you won't do the same?_

"It seems Sasha that you've forgotten that you barely survived the last epic duel, thank you very much," Oxana snidely retorted. "Therefore, I won't be buying us ringside seats for this duel."

"Who are you?" Severus repeated.

He could admit that recently, his life had taken on a rather surreal quality, but these two! It was though he was a duffed up Alice sitting down to a tea party with the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. Nothing was making sense anymore, and at any moment, Sasha and Oxana would decide it was time to stuff a sleeping Severus into the teapot. Therefore, he best stay awake… if only he could. His exhaustion was the enemy, as when he slept, he'd be defenseless…well more defenseless then he was now.

"Why do you call me Adrik? Who are you?"

"No, friend Adrik, I will not give you my true names. Names have power, you understand, and the ability to compel. You are in no condition to demand that information from me. I am Sasha, which will be enough for you. As for Adrik? It's a good, proper Russian name, comes from Hadrian for dark. Don't give us your true name, Adrik, it's no doubt been Tabooed."

Bloody hell, the accent, the refusal to give his true names, his approximate age, his apparent familiarity with Gellert Grindelwald meant that Sasha had attended Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning during the period when Gellert had been building his army.

_**DURMSTRANG. **_

He had fled from the Head Master and the Dark Lord, only to find two of Gellert Grindlewald's supporters. Truly, he had gone from the frying pan and jumped headfirst into the burning pyre.

Severus looked at the older mage, attempted to mentally remove the long hair and the beard that camouflaged his features. The green eyes, the curly hair, the hooked nose… the familiarity with potions. When the Dark Lord first came to power, he had been quite enamored of Grindelwald's techniques, and Severus had intently studied the history of Grindelwald. Most importantly, Severus had studied the followers of Grindelwald to discover what mistakes they might have made when they had been jockeying for power.

His physical malaise briefly lifted when Severus experienced real terror at the realization of who Sasha was. There was only one mage that Sasha could possibly be, and that meant he was currently under the care of…

No. That particular mage was most assuredly dead, reportedly killed during the battle between Grindelwand and Dumbledore. But didn't the Dark Lord search for him? A rumor that the Dark Wizard was still alive had surfaced some years ago and the Dark Lord had been intrigued by the possibilities of having a Grindelwand underling under his sway. Therefore a suitable envoy had been dispatched to discover if the truth was correct and if it was, they were to negotiate a meeting. No trace had been found of him… but then again… would anyone in the Dark Lord's service truly attempt to find someone that might usurp their own power?

_Bloody hell, bloody hell, Ari, my sweet Ari, what have I done? I wanted just a few months free from Dumbledore and the Dark Lord … instead… instead... I find… the Dragon of Bulgaria. I am completely defenseless and he's Damyan Georgiev Draganov! The Bloody Dragon of Bulgaria!  
_

_The Draganov of legends makes Bellatrix LeStrange seem completely sane in comparison! He's a mass murderer! He single-handedly killed the entire Bulgarian department of Aurors! _

"What matter of man are you?" Severus softly questioned. Best not show his fear, as fear could be exploited. It would be best to sound… respectful…diffident… Sasha was a formidable wizard.

"A man who wishes to be left alone. But, because of you, a man who finds himself in the midst of a war that he most assuredly does not wish to be involved. I swore on my soul that I will not let Oxana be harmed and yet helping you would put her in danger. Why should I help you?"

The mage's voice was cool, calm and collected even his green eyes weighed and measured him and declared him utterly lacking.

"She's blameless in this…the child…" Severus pleaded. "She's an innocent. Shouldn't she be given the chance to be born?"

His passionate plea earned him only the slightest narrowing of Sasha's green eyes. It appeared for better or for worse, that his response had disturbed Sasha's emotional detachment.

"She's the innocent, aren't you going to assure me that you're guiltless also?" Sasha intently questioned. "Innocently, you have set two of the most powerful wizards in Great Britian against each other. No doubt they'll end up in my freshly painted drawing room battling it out over you two. I only just painted it!"

The mage was no longer serenely talking about Severus' dead body; instead, dare he think it? Sasha sounded slightly uncomfortable.

_Perhaps, I can persuade him… but I have to tell him the truth, the horrible, horrible truth._

"I'm not innocent. I have done horrible, horrible things. I struggle to redeem myself, but know I am doomed to failure, but she… she is an innocent. Possibly the only good thing I have ever had in my life…"

The mage's green eyes frosted over then, and Severus believed that he had lost his case.

"I ran to save Ariana from both of them… What have I done? I've only succeeded in killing her faster. You're… _**Damyan Georgiev Draganov**_! You're the Bloody Dragon of Bulgaria!"

Instinctively, Severus reached for his wand, determined to fight for Ari's survival to his very last breath. The Bulgarian Dark Wizard remained where he was, sitting next to him and in fact, Damyan appeared quite amused by Severus' instinctive defensive response.

"Your wand is being held in another room, Adrik," the Dark Wizard calmly stated. "I suppose we could wrestle on my bed if you feel the need to fight me that badly, but you wouldn't last for long. Well, since you wish to fight me so bad, shall we do it?"

He'd be slaughtered, Severus knew. Why hadn't he kept his mouth shut?

"I'm so sorry, Ari," Severus whispered.

"The only wrestling in bed you're allowed to do is with me, old man," Oxana reminded her lover. "He's far too young and delicate for you."

"Now, now, now, lad, I'm not going to slaughter you when you're lying naked in my bed. Do you have any idea how much work it would be to clean the room? Plus, I'd need a new mattress which would be quite distressing. You see, I've just broken it in so it's rather comfortable. When you get to be my age and your bones creak, you appreciate a comfortable, broken in mattress," the Bulgarian Dark Wizard dryly commented.

Bloody hell, Draganov was more whimsical than the Head Master. He attempted to sit up, but Draganov pushed him one handed onto his back. Least Draganov was considerate enough to help guide his head back to the pillow instead of letting it smack against the headboard.

"Adrik, the name Damyan Georgiev Draganov no longer possesses any power over me and I never particularly appreciated that nickname. It's a time in my life best forgotten by all. _**Do not voice it again.**_"

Severus nodded his head in agreement, pretending to be cowed by the threat in Sasha's voice, but inwardly, he vowed that he'd run the first chance he could.

"Before you even think of fleeing once more, Adrik, understand that you are gravely ill. If you leave here, you will be dead within a day or so. You will have murdered the innocent you claim you wish to save from harm. Her only chance for survival is with me. I tell you the truth in this matter, and you must believe me."

Damyan put his hand over Severus' face and carefully closed Severus' frightened eyes.

"Now, sleep. Your body desperately needs rest. Sleep, Adrik."

Damyan softly whispered that command over and over again until his patient was deeply asleep.

"Your reputation once again precedes you, love," Oxana dryly quipped. Her eyes were affectionate as she glanced at her lover. "Are we moving again? What are we doing with our new stray?"

The Dark Wizard growled before he spoke. "We'll have to move, but he's in no condition to travel. I've removed any thoughts of that terrible bastard Draganov from the surface of his mind, Oxana, but I'm sure it will resurface in time as he put the clues together rather rapidly. Hopefully, since Adrik appears to be an exceedingly smart lad, he'll realize it will be in her best interest to keep his damn mouth shut."

"He was quite fearful of you, but quite determined to fight for his child," Oxana quietly remarked.

"Yes, you have to give the boy some credit for his noble but misguided attempt to fight me while he's too weak to light a candle. He's a defenseless child, Oxana, and I'd never fight against someone so damn depleted. I'd butcher him in a matter of moments. On to happier issues, I'm afraid that you'll need to go to market. He'll use up most of my magical supplies in the next few days if I can keep him alive that long," the man currently known as Sasha stated. "I'll make up a list of supplies that you'll need to purchase. Be careful, don't buy too much of any one ingredient in the same location."

"Damyan, is it really necessary for you to treat me as an auror trainee?" Oxana tartly retorted. "I managed to track you down after all."

"Might I remind you it took you five years to do so? Plus if you weren't dying in that alley from that stab wound, I never would have rescued you, so technically, I found you. Please get the last few days of the _Daily Prophet_, and pick up that other paper… _The Quibbler_. There's the occasional bit of truth in it, though one has to rather search hard for it."

"You didn't like that piece of rubbish when they stated that you were still alive and serving drinks in that little bar on the Rhine."

The Bulgarian Dark wizard barked a rare laugh, and conceded her the point.

"Fortunately, it was the wrong bar and I was imbibing, not serving, but it did send a great many people after us, successfully ruining our holiday. Now, seriously, you've gone through his pockets, does he possess any currency? He'll need to contribute as we'll be feeding him six… seven times a day plus I expect him to pay us exceedingly well for his medical treatment as I'm a cold hearted bastard that doesn't believe in charity."

His tone was crisp and no-nonsense. Sasha was a pragmatic soul at heart, and once a decision had been made, he rarely changed his mind.

"Six or seven times a day?" Oxana questioned with a great deal of asperity. "We're not making that much money from selling smudge sticks and crystals. His purse won't help feed him for long. We'll need to dip in our savings."

"I know, but his body is merrily consuming itself to keep the child alive, so we'll need to feed him. Broth first, and then we'll have to work him up to solid foods. No wonder he vomited after his Apparation into the alley. That's a recipe for gastric rebellion if I've ever heard of one, starve yourself for days, scarf down a scone and tea and then Disapparate. I wonder where the hell he was attempting to Disapparate because it is impossible for me to believe that he seriously planned on landing in our alley."

Oxana softly laughed. At Sasha's quirked eyebrow, Oxana explained her amusement.

"He was probably so frightened that he did a Blind Jump. Remember, Sasha, determination, destination and deliberation are crucial to a successful Jump. In Adrik's case, he desperately wanted a destination that could be a place of safety from both Gellert, Junior and St. Albus. Perhaps he even prayed that might find someone who could keep him alive until the child is viable. Then, with a rather loud crack, he collapses outside the protective wards of the only Wizard in the entire world who might be able to get him to term, plus being the only wizard in the entire universe barmy enough to tell Gellert, Junior and St. Albus to bugger off. That's why he showed up in the alleyway."

She laughed harder at the nonplussed expression on her lover's face. It was uncommon when she defeated him in a battle of wits, and Oxana planned on relishing her rare victory.

"I categorically refuse to discuss fate, predetermination and the random quirks of the uncaring universe with you, as that would mean the hardhearted universe had previously decided I would take in our stray. I've made a habit over the years of declining to delve into the murky realms of metaphysics with a mad Russian witch, and I don't plan on breaking it. Now, on to mundane matters, Oxana, does he have enough funds to at least pay for part of his treatment?"

The former Ekaterina Sidorova Dobrolubskaia, once a promising Russian Auror now only a holistic health practioner in Manchester, neatly summed up how much money their patient had, and what else he had in his pockets.

"I need a moment to think, dearest. But please, strengthen the wards on the shop. Dumbledore won't recognize your signature in the wards, but he will no doubt remember mine. "

* * *

Minerva sternly warned herself not to let her hopes get the better of her. Yes, Sister Elizabeth had assured her that Severus had just arrived and was currently visiting his mother, but that news meant nothing. Thanks to the imp of the perverse, Severus had already run like hell once he saw Albus at the bank.

_And you. Severus saw you and decided to flee. You've lost his trust, Minerva. It's so rarely given and once lost, never regained._

"So her son is visiting Eileen?" Minerva again questioned, mainly out of need to make polite conversation to the formidable woman escorting her to Eileen Prince's room. "That's wonderful. The poor lad was seriously ill and he hasn't been able to visit her since December."

"He doesn't look like he should be out of his hospital bed," Sister Elizabeth firmly stated. "But he was quite worried about his mother. I insisted that he sit and have something to eat as I believed he was close to prostration. The receptionist informed me that he was staggering when he exited the Knight Bus."

Obviously, Sister Elizabeth had never ridden the Knight Bus or she would have realized that wobbling and the spontaneous praising of God for surviving were the normal symptoms of those that had just disembarked.

"Thank you," Minerva hoped that the nurse could hear the sincerity in her thanks as she was truly grateful for what little kindnesses Severus received these days. "These days, he truly needs someone to keep an eye on him. But you know how proud men are."

The two witches entered Eileen's room to find it empty of visitors. Its only occupant was the still, contracted form of Eileen Prince.

"I thought you said he was here?" Minerva quickly questioned. She managed to keep her disappointment from her tone, but damn it, she didn't sense Severus anywhere.

"Perhaps he's in the loo," Sister Elizabeth suggested. The witch politely tilted her head in the direction of a closed door. "I gave him a full teapot, and it's empty."

That explanation made complete sense, so therefore Minerva would not panic, but instead, she'd calmly wait for Severus to exit the loo. Then she would carefully wrap him up in gossamer silk and return him to the Hogwarts Infirmary, posthaste!

"Would we have seen him if he had decided to leave?" While one hoped for the best, the pragmatic Minerva firmly believed in preparing for the worst.

"There's only one way physically in or out of the building," the hospice administrator assured her. "We would have seen him."

She had never known the comatose Eileen Prince before her accident, and it appeared that Minerva would never have the pleasure. Eileen the invalid reminded Minerva of Severus physically as she was rather thin and had heavy brows and a long, pallid face. Her hair, at one time, had been the same midnight shade as Severus, but now it was pure white. Her open eyes were vacant, and her hands contracted into tight claws. Severus' mother was a pitiful sight, and she wondered anew about Severus' reticence with regards to his mother.

_You believed that you knew him better than even Albus did, but yet Severus never mentioned that his mother is in a vegetative state!_

"Since you're a family friend, I want to assure you that we'll be treating Ms. Prince much better than her former hospice. We've decreased her medications and her bed sores are responding exceedingly well the ministrations of our Wound Care Mediwtich. I will leave you two alone so you can chat, but please contact me if you require anything," Sister Elizabeth requested before she left the room.

"Eileen, I'm Minerva. I'm struggling to help your son, but he's being difficult," Minerva assured Severus' mother. "But don't you worry; I'm up to the challenge."

Minerva was sitting next to Eileen's bed when she heard the tell tale crack of a very sloppy Disapparation. If that had been Severus, she truly feared that he was in imminent danger of splinching himself.

"I need to investigate that noise," she told the unresponsive Eileen. "If it is at all possible, I'll be back to say goodbye."

McGonagall quickly entered the hallway to discover Nymphadora Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Proudfoot the Auror. There was no sign of Severus which meant that he hadn't splinched himself, as a splinching left bloody bits and bobs at the Disapparation point.

"Kingsley, Dora, what an unexpected pleasure," Minerva stated with true delight. It was a true shame that she couldn't say the same thing about seeing Darrin Proudfoot. She remembered him from his student days as being a plodder and a snitch to boot. The most horrible of combinations. His parents must have known someone very high up in the food chain for him to become an Auror. "Proudfoot."

She acknowledged him as superior does an inferior, complete with a regal nod of her head. It was childish, yes, but Minerva enjoyed his slow burn. The boy had nearly set her on fire during class during his First Year after all.

"Wotcher, Minerva!"

Dora's exuberance brightened Minerva's mood. With Kingsley and Dora on Severus' trail, the Order would be kept informed of the Ministry's hunt for Severus.

"May I ask why you're here?" Minerva continued, as though she didn't know the reason for their appearance. "What are three aurors doing in a hospice?"

"Ministry business." The offended Proudfoot curtly snapped. "Come along now, you two."

Interesting, Proudfoot was attempting to boss around Kingsley Shacklebolt who simply wasn't having any of that.

"We're looking for Severus Snape," Kingsley stated in his slow, deep voice. "We're to round him up and take him directly to Azkaban. Have you by chance seen him here? We're just checking in with the staff. So far, no one's seen him, and the administrator is supposedly in a very important meeting and can't be disturbed."

A fuming Proudfoot didn't see the slow wink Shacklebolt gifted her, nor Dora mouthing, "Prig!" behind his back.

"Azkaban? Doesn't he even get a trial first?" Minerva questioned.

"No, he broke his parole. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," Proudfoot retorted. "I can't believe that Dumbledore thought that Severus Snape was capable of redemption! He's gone back to his old buddies. It would have been best for everyone if they had Kissed him years ago."

"No, I haven't seen him here. I last saw him at Hogwarts. Has he gone missing?" Minerva thought herself a fine actress as she believed that she sounded truly surprised, and Dora gave her performance an approving wink.

Dora and Kingsley didn't like Severus, but they trusted Dumbledore. No matter what Severus did or however he acted, they unequivocally accepted as the Gospel Truth that Dumbledore was fully aware of the current situation with the acerbic Potions Master. Their faith in Dumbledore and by extension, Severus, while completely misguided in this particular case, eased Minerva's stressed nerves.

Damn Proudfoot for mentioning the Dementor's Kiss! Like bloody hell would she stand by and let her unborn godchild be Kissed!

"Yes, he has," snapped Proudfoot. "But you wouldn't tell us if you had seen him."

"That's incorrect, Proudfoot. Minerva is a law abiding citizen, and she would most assuredly inform you if she had seen Severus here. She says that she has not, therefore, she hasn't," calmly inserted Albus Dumbledore who had just arrived in the middle of the conversation. "By all means, feel free to ask his mother, but alas, Eileen lost the power of speech over fifteen years ago."

"Auror Lupin, would you and Auror Proudfoot mind confirming that Severus Snape is not in his mother's room? Check under the bed, he might be hiding there," Shacklebolt requested. "In the closets also. Look everywhere, and leave no stone unturned."

His tone was composed, but Dora merrily laughed.

"I'll check the closet and I'll meticulously inspect his mother's unmentionables. Just being thorough so I can unequivocally state on my report that he didn't turn himself in a black, lacey bra," the younger Auror cheerfully stated. "I can see him changing into a great, bloody black bat, but a bra? Darrin? If he's turned himself into a braissiere, do you want to carry it back to the Ministry as a victory trophy? That way you can tell everyone how you captured our dangerous Severus single-handedly after a long, drawn out fight?"

Proudfoot, realizing that he had completely lost the war while he had been watching, nobly attempted to ignore Dora, which Minerva knew from personal experience, was a bloody impossibility. There was no way in hell to ignore Nymphadora Tonks Lupin when she wanted to be the center of his attention. She'd almost pity Darrin if not for the fact that he had ruined her favorite sweater. Yes, she had Charmed away the singed yarn, but it had still smelt like burnt yarn whenever she had worn it.

Kingsley waited until the two were out of earshot before he softly chuckled.

"I almost feel sorry for Darrin." His tone turned serious and he sighed. "What's happened with Severus? He broke his parole, and the Minister has made the capture of Severus our top priority. A few of the retired Aurors have been ordered to report to the Minister for Special Reassignment. It's not a good thing, Albus. The group that spoke the loudest against Severus at his trial? Wetherwax, Gallagher, O'Dorcy, Ingleby and Bannatyne are all back, delighted to have the chance to finally prove that your faith in Severus was misplaced. They find him…"

Kingsley paused, and Albus voiced the bitter truth, "They'll kill him, and then ask questions. Has Mad Eye been approached to rejoin?"

"No, I believe Rufus Scrimgeour fears that Mad Eye's loyalty to you would override even Mad Eye's zealous pursuit of rogue Death Eaters. After all, he did appear in the Department of Mysteries when the Death Eaters went after the Prophecy. We successfully explained away myself, Dora and Lupin, but Mad Eye? Rufus pretends to believe that he was meeting me for dinner when we investigated the disturbance but I don't believe that he's convinced. No, Mad Eye has not been approached about coming out of retirement. Shhh… they're coming back. No black bra, thank Merlin. I wouldn't have put it past Dora to Create one just to embarrass Darrin."

Kingsley's voice projected in the hallway as he spoke to Albus. His manner was professional, but quite strict.

"Albus, you must understand that we will find Severus and bring him to Azkaban. If we find out that you've been withholding information on Severus, the Minister of Magic will be most displeased. You will be charged as a collaborator and brought to trial."

Albus, naturally, was completely unconcerned.

"Yes. I've been informed of that very same fact by Rufus not even twenty minutes ago. Minerva? Would you care to join me? I wish to visit Eileen, and see how she is faring in her new home. She had the most distressing bed sores prior to being transferred here and Sister Elizabeth assured me that they were improving."

* * *

Oxana strengthened the wards of the shop and their home. Fortunately, Monday was a day their shop was normally closed so she didn't have to deal with any pesky customers requiring assistance. After a few hours, she returned back to Sasha.

Adrik's temperature had risen dramatically, and Sasha had already changed the sheets on the bed by the time she returned. Their sweating patient was warily watching Sasha with feverish eyes but Adrik instinctively reached for her when he saw her.

"Min?" He hopefully whispered.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Sasha barely nodded his head, which meant she should humor Adrik.

"Yes?" She kept her voice low, hoping that her attempt at softening her rather noticeable accent was successful.

"I know… you've more important concerns…but can you stay? Just for a few minutes? He behaves… when you're here…" Adrik's voice cracked and then he carefully sipped at the water that Sasha offered him.

"Certainly, I'll stay," Oxana assured her patient after he was finished drinking. She gently grasped his hand until he was once more asleep.

"He'll stay asleep for the next four hours or so," Sasha assured her. "I just dosed him before you arrived. Grisha agreed to share the bed with him, so if there's a problem he'll get me. I'll have to start chopping ingredients for his next potion."

"That was… interesting…" she dryly quipped. "He believes this Min would able to protect him from _**you**_? She must be a formidable Valkyrie."

"No, he believes I'm Albus. It's been rather stressful after his fever spiked, one minute, he is pleading for me to be merciful and forgive him and the next; he's telling me how much he despises me. Other times, he weeps. Those are the worst times to listen to his ravings as Adrik assures me how much he loves the child and then he begs me to stop hurting him as he might miscarry."

"That's… truly horrifying," Oxana responded, her voice full of censure. She was by far the more expressive of their pairing, and had no qualms voicing her emotions while Damyan prided himself on his stoicism. "To do that to him and then abuse him?"

"Far, far worse than that, as there's the slightest whiff of a Compulsion on the lad. I dare not pry too deep in his psyche, as he's likely booby trapped. If any Mind Healer blundered into his mind, seeking to help him, I believe that they'll be reduced to a drooling, quivering blob of humanity. A bit of Reiki seemed to help calm him, but I'm afraid that you'll have to be extensively involved in treating our little stray, as my touch seems to frightens him."

"Well, you are the stuff of which nightmares are made," Oxana quipped, which earned her another rare laugh from Sasha.

"Actually, it appears that my current appearance is quite similar to blessed Saint Albus. When you shop today, try to get current information on Dumbledore, including a picture if possible, and I won't insult you by warning you to be careful. His spies are _**everywhere**_, and we don't want him to know that someone's interested in him. We need to quickly determine who our stray really is, and UnTaboo his name so if he mutters it when he's feverish, we don't have to worry about unwanted company."

"The store has been shielded," she assured him. "Please double check the wards."

"Already tested, they're as strong as they can be," he assured her. "Your usual superb job as I can barely sense them unless I press on them. If I wasn't as familiar with your casting as I am, I'd never notice them. Your wards are almost like spider webs, too fragile to be noticed, but one would become quickly ensnared in the silk."

She wasn't disturbed by Sasha double checking her work. A less secure woman might be angry that her work had been inspected, examined and assessed, but after slightly more than twenty five years on the run, Oxana firmly believed one's survival was far more important than self-esteem.

"I burned his clothes already, he'll have to wear mine for now. I never trusted that Saintly Dumbledore as I know he and Gellert were lovers. He wept after he defeated Gellert… wept like a lost soul. Yes, the historians said that his tears were because of the savage intensity of the battle between those two titans, but I know that he wept because he still loved Gellert and had hoped his pure love would redeem the bastard."

Sasha's tone mocked Albus' naïve belief that the power of love could redeem lost souls. In Sasha's biased opinion, some souls, such as his, were eternally damned. Best accept the bitter truth, and then live the remainder your life free of regrets. Brooding on eternal damnation could wait until after you died, as then you'd have all eternity in which to mope on your sorry state. "Now this entire situation with Adrik?"

Oxana let Sasha speak his peace, for she knew full well his intense dislike for Albus Dumbledore. After all, hadn't the saintly, well respected Dumbledore been the one to first encourage Gellert in his unholy quest for power? Others may have forgotten that little fact, but not so Damyan.

"It proves that I was quite correct about Albus; he's just as barbaric as Gellert ever was but he just hid it under a thin veneer of sainthood. Adrik is shattered, Oxana, possibly beyond any hopes of repair. It must have greatly amused that bastard to impregnate a boy that was so enamored of him. I wouldn't be surprised if he talked Adrik into it, claiming it would the ultimate expression of his love to carry Dumbledore's heir."

Sasha actually sounded piqued, which meant that he was furious. Something about Adrik's plight had deeply affected the normally imperturbable Sasha, and so she needed to determine what had caused it. She had an idea what the cause of Sasha's antagonism was and she'd need to be quite delicate in probing Sasha to confirm her suspicions. Blessed Koljada knew that she genuinely loved the man after all their years together, but Ekaterina sure as hell didn't understand him.

"I must confess that I'm rather surprised that you're getting involved in this mess, Sasha." She carefully offered that observation. Uncertain how he'd react as he was in a fey mood today, she impishly added, "Though I firmly believe that it was predestined."

Damyan Draganov was a prickly, spiny mass of ambiguities and paradoxes, capable of mass destruction on an almost incomprehensive scale yet possessing an astonishing streak of compassion. It was doubtful that Gellert, Dumbledore or others of their ilk would decide to heal a dying Russian auror who had been single-mindedly tracking him for five years. Yet Damyan had, bashfully declaring that he would genuinely miss her fanatical pursuit if she had died in that alleyway.

"Dumping him at Hogwarts would be the sane thing to do as no doubt Dumbledore is moving heaven and earth and all that is in-between to locate his child. But his situation has stirred unpleasant memories, Oxana, of a young wizard who would have done anything to save his wife and unborn child. I do not do this for Adrik, whoever he might truly be; I do this only for Dana and Iskra..."

Her lover paused then, fearful that he had said too much and that inadvertently, he had hurt her. As always, that momentary flash of the loving man that he had once been stung her to her core.

_Your life would have been so different, Damyan, if Dana and Iskra were still alive. You'd probably still be a healer in Sofia. You treated everyone, regardless of magical ability until that horrible day you returned to your practice to discover a pregnant Dana killed by a Muggle looking for narcotics. I can understand why you blew your roof then. It was disgraceful that the Bulgarian Aurors didn't care that you were insane from grief when you slaughtered Dana's murderer. Instead, they attacked you in mass, and you were still so distraught that you instinctively defended yourself. You massacred the entire bloody department, Sasha! On that terrible day, the legend of the rampaging Dragon was born. _

"You can mention their names," Oxana calmly stated. "If that Muggle hadn't killed them… your life would have been very different. You'd probably be in Bulgaria spoiling a dozen or so great-grandchildren."

"Instead, because of my irrational grief, I was a keen recruitment for a charismatic, power crazed Dark Lord. Now I'm a hunted man, wanted on six different continents for various crimes against humanity. Would be Dark Lords still search for me, believing that I will eagerly assist them in their quest for power. It would horrify Gellert, Junior that a wizard of my supposed stature works in a holistic New Age store in Manchester, and deals with bored, menopausal women who think buying a smudge stick is a dangerous dabble in the occult. Though I must confess that if I were still in Bulgaria, I would never have the pleasure of finally meeting that fixated Russian Auror in a dark alley."

Oxana softly laughed at Sasha's dry tone, and she reminded Sasha that she wouldn't have been in the dark alley except that she had been on the trail of a rather dashing, dangerous dark wizard.

"I was focused, not fixated. Fixated makes me sound like I was a stalker, sexually obsessing over a dashing dark wizard. I was not sexually fixated on you," Oxana primly declared. "Though I do remember remarking that you filled out your pants quite nicely."

She laughed at the very thought, but Sasha didn't join in. Instead, he tenderly caressed her cheek with his hand, and intently looked into her blue-grey eyes.

"Be vigilant," Sasha whispered. "If anything were to happen to you, Ekaterina, I would not… handle… it well."

"I'll be back within three hours, I promise. I'll stop for a treat, as there's a new Bulgarian restaurant up by John Dalton Street. I'll pick up a few of your favorites. They might even have Strandzhanski Shish or Gyuveche. Perhaps I can find a bottle of Sungurlare Eau deVie or Slavjantzi to go with it."

"It's that obvious that I'm feeling melancholy?" Sasha wryly quipped. There was a mocking twisted smile on his face.

"To one who knows you as well as I do," Oxana admitted.

"Very well, my dead are haunting me. One would think that we've become good friends after all these years, but it is not to be."

* * *

Albus spoke to Eileen at some length, mainly about inane issues, and then when he was finished visiting Severus' mother, he boosted her protective wards he had already personally cast. That done, he confirmed that Eileen was deeply asleep before he spoke to Minerva.

"Rufus has already sent word to the Daily Prophet that Severus has broken his parole. They're printing up a special edition, and his face will soon be plastered everywhere as Rufus was insistent that they contact every magical paper in every nation about the dangerous, escaped Death Eater. Within a short time, Voldemort will realize that a defenseless Severus is out there, and will be easy prey. I refuse to believe that Severus is willingly returning to him. He _**ran**_ from _**me**_, not towards Voldemort."

"It's not your fault," Minerva tartly assured Albus. "Don't you dare shoulder the blame for this entire situation!"

She glared at him, and then continued, "And don't you think that I'm saying you're blameless either. You're not. Guilt will be fairly allocated later, after Severus is once more safe and sound at Hogwarts."

Left unsaid was that Minerva was intent on claiming her own just portion of responsibility for this complete and utter cockup. Damn her for a meddling fool, she knew how Severus thought and how he'd feel after his vicious assault. If she had been Severus, she would have overreacted to their discussion, yet refuse to admit her fears to anyone. She wouldn't have run, but then again, her mother had raised her to be a stereotypical Stubborn Scot. No, she would have stayed at Hogwarts and feed on her insecurities until they utterly consumed her.

"I spoke to Sister Elizabeth and warned her that Eileen Prince may become a target. I've already warded the hospice and placed the strongest shields I could on Eileen. If anyone comes after Eileen, I'll immediately know, and I'll be able to respond accordingly," Albus assured her.

"I know Severus will appreciate you keeping an eye on his mother," she stated.

He might appreciate it, but a wounded Severus would warily accept it as yet another debt he owed the Head Master.

"I'd ask the Order to keep watch over her, but most believe my faith in Severus is foolish. Eileen would hear unpleasant things about her son from them, so I hope my wards will be sufficient strength. This is the safest place I could find for her, Minerva, but I fear that I have needlessly placed the other inhabitants of the hospice at risk."

His blue eyes were concerned and damn it, Albus sounded sincere. She hated when he was earnest.

"Anyplace you'd move her to would be in danger. She wouldn't be safe even in Hogwarts if He Who Must Not Be Named decided to strike at her there. Have Filius triple check your wards, and he'll improve them as necessary," she suggested.

"I really should move her to Hogwarts, but she's… dying." Albus admitted that slowly, and Minerva had to admit that she was confused.

"She's been as good as dead since Tobias knocked her down a flight of steps," Minerva tartly retorted. Eileen Prince wasn't alive… she lived, yes, but she wasn't alive. "She's in a hospice, Albus, it's highly unlikely that she will ever walk out of here."

"No, she's _**dying**_. The Healers believe that she has only a few more months at most. Her body is shutting down, Minerva. This hospice is the best hospice I could find, as that other place was a horror…" Albus paused. "Yes, I know Severus gave her the best care he could afford, but it wasn't a nice place. This place… they're kind to her, Minerva. Wouldn't it be best for her to stay here, so her final days are filled with compassion and kindness? She had so little of it in her life that I'm reluctant to move her."

She nodded her head, as she knew she was too emotional to speak.

"Now, Minerva, let us go to Spinner's End. Perhaps Severus is there, and you can convince him that it's in their best interest to return to Hogwarts. Have you ever been there?" Albus questioned.

At her negative response, Albus shook his head.

"Very well, take my hand, and I'll take us there. We have to hurry, as I can't sense Severus anymore. "

At Minerva's horrified look, Albus quickly explained. "I put a very light tracer on him. He was still alive when it was silenced. I believe that wherever he is, he's being Warded."

"Wards? Who would shelter Severus? Not _**Him**_," Minerva questioned.

"The Wards have a distinctly feminine feeling. Who do you think would shelter Severus that is female?" Albus questioned.

"Bellatrix LeStrange?" Minerva then grimaced. Bellatrix was the first and the worst name that came to her mind.

"The Warding seems very delicate but unbelievably well-built. There's a subtlety in this casting that Bellatrix lacks. She's a sledgehammer, Minerva. This unknown witch is an accomplished spinner of magical flows."

"Cissy Malfoy?" Minerva answered. "Draco helped Severus escape, would Cissy risk His displeasure by sheltering Severus?"

"I don't know. I would have doubted it a few short months ago, but then again, much has happened since Christmas that has changed the way I view the world," Albus admitted. "Come, take my hand."

Within minutes, they arrived at Spinner's End.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N # 1 In case you missed the announcement in a previous chapter, NW2A is guilty of marry off the Lupins a wee bit earlier than canon. Well, doesn't Remus deserve some love? ;)

A/N # 2 Thanks to Excessively Perky for her story suggestions.

* * *

Spinners End was not what Minerva was expecting. Hell, she wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but even in her darkest fears, she hadn't imagined the complete absence of hope that permeated Spinners End. The abject misery of the location gnawed away at her soul like a spiritual cancer.

_How could anyone raise a child here?_

Minerva had never before believed that she had been spoiled as a child, but now she knew how indulged she had truly been. Her parents had been financially comfortable, but not prone to extravagance. Yet, they had given her such a surfeit of love and affection that she had been self-confident and secure in her abilities, believing that her life was full of unlimited potential. Yes, Minerva McGonagall was most assuredly a product of her upbringing, much like the guarded Severus was the result of his childhood environment.

Albus took no notice of his bleak surroundings, instead he had carefully unwarded Severus' house and entered. Minerva quickly followed behind him, somewhat alarmed by his reckless behavior.

"Severus?" Dumbledore softly called up the hidden stairway that he had located with a surprising ease that spoke of a long familiarity with Severus' cramped home in Spinners End. "Are you up there?"

_Bloody hell Albus, do you expect Severus to answer you with a cheery 'ay-yup'? Perhaps that female mage is lying in wait to ambush you. _

"I don't believe he's still here, but just in case, I thought it prudent to let him know that we're are the ones that are here," Albus explained when he saw the disapproving look on her face. "That way he'll know we're not Voldemort or the Ministry."

He stepped into the dark stairway but Minerva deliberately put her arm in front of him to bar his way.

"I should go first," Minerva softly protested. "If Severus is here, you need to remember that he ran from you, Albus. You seem to have forgotten that he's _**terrified**_...of_…. __**you**__."_

Her blunt reminder stopped Albus cold. His blue eyes were not merrily a twinkle with suppressed amusement, no, they were instead quite somber.

"Yes, you are quite correct, Minerva. You should go first," he softly agreed. "I know he's terrified of me. I admit that I have utterly bodged the situation with him but he's in so much danger, Minerva. It's imperative that we find him. It will be necessary to remind me that I need to curb my enthusiasm."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement. Then Minerva stepped into the dark stairwell and called upstairs.

"Severus, it is I, Minerva. If you're still here, please, let me talk to you," she requested. The witch wasn't expecting a response, but still her heart sank when Severus didn't answer.

* * *

Severus' empty bedroom was a small, dark, claustrophobic room that strongly reminded Minerva of the Hogwarts' dungeons. Unlike Severus' neat to a fault quarters, it was a disaster, as a fearful Severus had made no attempt to hide the fact that he had hurriedly rummaged for clothes, books and other necessities. Albus was being quiet, entirely too silent for her comfort, and she found him sitting on Severus' bed, clutching the green dressing gown he had given Severus.

"He didn't take this," Albus murmured. He seemed… saddened.

"It appears that Severus only took Muggle clothing," Minerva reminded Albus.

"I thought that he liked it as Poppy assured me that Severus wore it. But he didn't even take his sweater. I intentionally provided him with a proper sweater and warm socks as Severus feels the cold so easily. It's almost March, he'll need a sweater. Why didn't Severus take any of his new clothes?"

Minerva decided it best not to involve herself in that conversation as her immediate response would be to snap, _"I warned you about overwhelming him with gifts!"_

No, that comment, while deeply emotionally satisfying, wouldn't be helpful in easing the currently tense situation. Instead, she began straightening the room. There would be no hiding that someone had entered Spinners End, and her strict upbringing was demanding that she get Severus' clothes off the floor. With a practiced flick, the clothing began straightening themselves out before they began to neatly fold themselves. That done, they began to stack themselves neatly onto the bed.

"We'll need to take those back to Hogwarts, so when we find him he'll have an available change of clothes," Albus stated.

Albus was being unduly optimistic, as Minerva's sixth sense was quite fearful that she had seen the last of Severus Snape. But since Albus was acting so bloody fey, she decided it was best just to pack Severus' clothes. With a quick flick and a tight swish, she Reduced the clothing into a small handkerchief size package.

"Minerva? There's an envelope with your name on it. It's on the chair," Albus informed her. His voice was rather soft and she almost didn't hear him. "That's Severus' hand writing. It's safe for you to pick up. I can't handle it as it's Warded against my touch."

"I'll need some light," Minerva informed Albus. While it was dark in Severus' bedroom, her request came from her understanding that a distressed Albus desperately needed something constructive to do _**immediately**_. "Would you mind?"

"_Lumos_," Albus cast, carefully holding his bright wand tip near Minerva.

"Thank you," Minerva responded. She held the envelope in one hand, and she put on her glasses with the other. Her hands shaking, she then opened the letter.

She read it, and for a wonder, Albus didn't ask her to read it out loud. No, instead he allowed her to read it several times in peace. The repeated readings were necessary to decipher Severus' cramped handwriting. Minerva then looked at Albus.

"He's in a very bad state, Albus. You're quite correct, we need to find him," Minerva stated, before she roughly wiped her tearing eyes. "Poor Severus, he's hurting so bad."

"May I ask what he wrote?" Albus hesitantly requested. "Was there any message for me?"

There was a rather painful question for Albus regarding the cancelled Bonding. She needed to be gentle but there was no way she could truly soften Severus' plaintive desperation.

_Headmaster, I sincerely implore you to forgive me for however I may have most grievously offended you. Please tell me how I might make amends to you in order to save our daughter's life. I humbly beseech you to please not let your righteous anger against her carrier adversely affect her. I know my heartfelt words to you are merely meaningless noise and empty clamor, but I pledge to you, that she is everything to me.  
_

"Severus is not making much sense as he seems quite troubled," Minerva explained. Perhaps that would be enough. "Severus promises to return to Hogwarts by late August. If he feels the child is in any danger, he assures me that he will return immediately."

Albus said not a word, and then Minerva continued.

"Severus believes that your anger towards him will cool if you don't have to deal with him. He's not sure how he angered you into reneging on the Bonding, but Severus… sincerely apologizes…and he… earnestly begs…for your forgiveness for whatever insult he has given you. There are several rather lengthy paragraphs of Severus confessing to various minor transgressions that he believes might have caused your anger and he then details in minutiae how he is a worthless piece of humanity," Minerva's voice shook as beneath her crusty exterior, she was quite emotional.

"I have failed him, Minerva," was Albus' barely audible response. "I pressured him into following my wishes… believing that I knew best… but Severus needed help so badly."

"The letter gets darker. He implored me that I do whatever I must to alleviate your anger, reminding me that my goddaughter may not survive to term if you don't bond him."

"And Severus won't live if I fail to bond him," Albus softly reminded Minerva.

"Actually, he's already made rather extensive plans for his death. He fears that you have reneged on the Bonding so you could have the child to yourself. Severus believes that you wish to raise her as a proper Gryffindor without any undesirable Slytherin influence. He's instructed me on what books to sell, how much I may get for each tome, and what dealer might be interested in his collection. There's also a list of what I'm to buy for the child, and he requests…"

Minerva stopped then, and it took some time for her to regain her composure.

"Severus…" She stopped again, and then continued. "Severus begs that if the child asks questions about him that I will be economical with the truth so she won't be shamed. His final request is that I buy her an emerald green dress for her first Christmas as a gift from him."

Albus took several minutes to reflect on everything, and then he nodded his head. He had made a decision regarding the situation with Severus, and Minerva pleaded to every god and goddess she knew that it was the right choice.

"Minerva, may I have a copy of the letter?" Albus softly requested. Yes, it was most assuredly a request, not an order.

"Albus, I've told you everything," she protested, ignoring that small, still voice that remarked that she had done no such thing. "He warded it against you for a reason."

"I'm sure there's much that you have edited. No doubt your revision was done out of a misguided sense of loyalty to me that I do not deserve. In this delicate situation, your loyalty to Severus needs to override everything else. To hell with my hurt feelings, Minerva, we need to find Severus before the Aurors do. I'm calling a meeting of the Order."

"What will you tell them?" Minerva asked.

"The truth," he simply stated.

"All of it?" sharply protested Minerva. "Is that truly wise?"

"I'll tell them that I have failed Severus. His flight from Hogwarts is because of his mistaken belief that his usefulness to me is at an end due to his injury. It's enough of the truth for them. Minerva, may I please have a copy of the letter?" Albus again appealed for the letter.

"No," she stated. "Severus didn't want you to read it. I must honor that."

He stared at her, and then Albus nodded his head in weary acceptance.

"I must learn to listen to you in regards to Severus. It is a tough lesson which I fear you will have to repeatedly beat into my head. I will abide by your decision as you know him far better than I did," Albus softly admitted. "To think at my advanced age, I'm capable of learning humility. Isn't the universe a very remarkable place?"

* * *

_He was on the Hogwarts Express as it chugged along to the school, sitting next to Lily. They were fifth years, full of trepidation of their upcoming OWLS. She was his only true friend, completely accepted him for what he was, instead of what he could do for her._

_"I wish they wouldn't pick on you," Lily sympathetically murmured. "Sirius is a nasty git, and James is an arse. Promise me; this year you won't let them get you into trouble. I don't want my potions partner getting expelled! You were in Dumbledore's office so much last year! I was so worried about you! I feared that the Headmaster was angry with you."  
_

_Memories of what had occurred in Dumbledore's office made him want to hurl, and he tried to swallow his bile. _

_"I won't get expelled," he promised Lily. "We're getting top marks in potions."_

_As long as he kept the Headmaster happy, he wouldn't get expelled. His stomach tightened, and he tried to smile. Dumbledore desired that Severus smile more as the Headmaster thoroughly disliked his scowling sourpuss face. The Headmaster believed that Severus was ugly enough when he smiled, thank you very much, and Severus' ever-present scowl just made a bad situation worse._

"_Sev? Are you alright? You've gotten so pale." Lily was a concerned friend, but Severus couldn't tell her what troubled him. If he could have confided in anyone, it would be her, which is why he most assuredly could not. The Headmaster had specifically mentioned that he wasn't to tell Lily anything, and had made a thinly veiled threat about perhaps it would be better if the two of them were no longer chummy. Fearful of losing his only friend, Severus had sworn a binding oath to the Headmaster ensuring he would not tell Lily anything._

_"I won't get expelled this year," Severus repeated. "I promise."_

_They went their separate ways once they got to the school after Lily promised to meet him the next day. He didn't eat much at the dinner as the Headmaster had surreptitiously watched him. Severus knew that he'd be summoned later that evening and his stomach was queasy enough. Too much food would be a mistake._

_He went to bed, and as he still hadn't been summoned, he stayed awake. The Headmaster didn't like it when he had to wake Severus, and Severus was mightily endeavoring to keep the Headmaster pleased._

_When the summons came, it was almost one in the morning. Easily, he made his way to the Headmaster's quarters. By now, it was old hat to sneak through the corridors at night. For four years Severus had slipped through the hallways and he had never been close to being caught, never needing the Headmaster's magic to ease his way._

_The Headmaster was waiting for him. The Headmaster held out his arms, and Severus immediately embraced the Headmaster. Sometimes, the Headmaster hugged him so tightly that Severus couldn't breathe. Now was such a time, and Severus believed that the ferocity of the Headmaster's embrace was because the Headmaster had missed him during the summer. _

_Some might state that it was a shameful thing, this relationship that consisted mainly of clandestine, nighttime meetings between the two of them but not Severus. When Snape was younger, the Headmaster had realized they had much in common and so he had arranged for these special nighttime mentoring sessions. Dumbledore had been quite poor and he, too, had been bullied when he was a student at Hogwarts, due to his raggedy clothes, his red hair and his father. _

_In time, Dumbledore admitted that he thought that Severus was quite special, how the Slytherin was so grown up for his age, and how much the Headmaster cared for him. There were a few shy kisses at first, and then, Dumbledore gently explained to him the mysteries of what happened between two people that loved each other as much as they did. Severus had desperately wanted to experience physical love, but the Headmaster had insisted that they not rush. So they had limited themselves to kisses and touches until Severus was truly ready. _

_As Severus has gotten older and much, much wiser, he increasingly valued his extraordinary relationship with Dumbledore. The Headmaster didn't touch Black, Potter or Lupin. No, the Headmaster's special touches and Dumbledore's soft moans of passions were reserved only for Severus, a dirty little Slytherin. Was it pride that filled Severus' soul? That only he could pleasure the greatest wizard in all of creation? He loved how Dumbledore's face looked in the midst of their passion because Severus knew that he was responsible for it, and how soft the Headmaster's voice was when they cuddled afterwards in the afterglow. _

"_Did you miss me during the summer? I'm sure you didn't miss me as much as I missed you." The Headmaster's voice was sad because he believed that Severus who claimed to love him so very, very much hadn't missed him. "You weren't alone, after all, while I was."_

_He tried not to weep, but Severus was deeply shamed that the Headmaster thought him unfeeling. _

"_I missed you, I missed you so much! I swear I missed you!" Severus pleaded. "Believe me, please. Every day, I prayed that you would contact me. I know you couldn't risk it, but still…I was so happy when you owled me that one day."  
_

_He wept, and to his surprise, the Headmaster gently rubbed his back._

_"I know that you were scared this summer," the Headmaster gently whispered. "I shouldn't have sent you that note, but I wanted you to know that I was thinking of you two, every hour, every second of this past summer. Minerva wondered why I had such a silly smile plastered on my face, and naturally, I couldn't tell her the truth."_

_There was another lengthy, tight embrace, and then a long kiss. _

"_I should have kept you here so I could keep an eye on you two, but there was no way I could. Don't you worry; you'll be staying here during the Christmas and spring breaks. Next summer, you won't have to return home, as I'll have enough time to craft a respectable reason so your parents will let you remain at Hogwarts. But I'll take you home with me, and we'll have the entire summer together. "_

_They broke apart and then to Severus' delighted embarrassment, the Headmaster slid his hand beneath Severus' waistband._

_"Getting a wee bit tight, Severus."_

_A blushing Severus nodded his head._

_"Don't you fret. I've bought you new clothes, and I put Expanding and Concealment Charms on all of them. No one will know about our special little secret. I don't need to remind you that we have to be very careful, Severus. The others, they wouldn't understand. They would wrongly fear this miracle as black magic. They'd send me to Azkaban, and you'd be incarcerated in St. Mungo's Criminal Ward."_

_The Headmaster smiled, and Severus tremulously smiled back. When the Headmaster had realized Severus' expectant condition, he had been furious with Severus. In his fury, Dumbledore had raged that the Slytherin had deliberately ensnared him using blackest of magic. Severus had been terrified of the Headmaster's wrath and he had cowered in the corner of the Headmaster's study in a futile attempt of shielding himself from the Headmaster's blows. His pitiful, nearly incoherent, sniveling protestations of complete innocence had at last penetrated the Headmaster's fiery rage and Dumbledore's anger had dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. _

_The Headmaster had been so distressed about so brutally frightening the traumatized Severus that Dumbledore had insisted on hours of gently petting, caressing and soothing Severus. He assured Severus that everything would be just fine; he thoroughly examined Severus with his wand and promised him that the conception hadn't occurred due to dark magic. The Headmaster being so smart, remembered a story where such a thing had happened before, and that it was the result of the two lovers' remarkable love for one another. Then the Headmaster had taken him to his bed and had been extraordinarily tender and affectionate. That night had been the best Severus had ever experienced with the Headmaster. Severus had been so happy, because he knew what love truly was. _

_But the traumatic experience with the enraged Headmaster had made Severus extremely fearful of ever again angering the Headmaster, so he endeavored even harder to be perfect. He practiced smiling more, and he tried not to scowl even when the Marauders hounded him. When the Headmaster had instructed him that he was to return to Spinners End for the summer break, he hadn't protested his abandonment. No, Severus claimed that he understood the necessity of the charade._

_He hadn't really, as the Headmaster was so smart, couldn't he have thought of a reason to keep Severus at Hogwarts for the summer?_

"_This is a special time for us, Severus, and I want to savor every single moment."_

_The Headmaster held out his hand to Severus, and Severus reached for it. His stomach uncontrollably roiled as the very thought of intimacy with the Headmaster. Since experiencing that incident with the enraged Headmaster, Severus had developed a deep fear of the Headmaster. He shouldn't be afraid of the Headmaster, for Severus loved the Headmaster, and Dumbledore loved him. But his mother and father claimed to love Severus, and they were abusive to him._

_No, Dumbledore loved him. He was good, and Severus shouldn't fret that the Headmaster would act like Severus' parents._

_Dumbledore's fingers tightly closed around Severus' hand, and then the Headmaster firmly pulled Severus towards him._

_"Come," he insisted. "I worry that you've forgotten over your long summer break everything I took such delight in teaching you. It's a lovely night to review the course material. I will be quite strict in grading you, Severus."_

_Severus was filled with panic and he pulled away from the Headmaster._

_"Please," Severus whispered. "Go slow tonight?"_

_He didn't see the Headmaster's hand, but the blow rocked him where he stood. His hand shaking, he touched his painful cheek. Snape was still shell-shocked when the next blow landed. Then the Headmaster grabbed him by his shoulders and began to viciously shake him._

"_None of that_ _now," growled a male voice. It wasn't Dumbledore's voice, but another._ _"Wake up, you're having a nightmare."_

For a moment, Severus had no idea where he was, and then he felt himself being assisted in a sitting position. Bile was in his throat, and he began to uncontrollably vomit into the proffered bin.

"It didn't happen like that," he whispered. "I _**know**_ that it didn't happen like that. He never touched me when I was a student. Never… he's not like that. He's good and proper, and…I know that they put these vile memories in my head. They never really happened, I know it. I know it. Why must I be plagued with evil memories that never occurred?"

Sasha ignored his whispers, and instead, the Dark Wizard wiped Severus' sweaty brow with a cool, damp cloth.

It was ironic, Severus had to admit, that Sasha would intimately clean him with such a gentle touch. Sasha… feared around the world… a mass murderer of epic proportions… was the only one willing to touch Severus.

"Drink this. It will help with your nausea. It's very weak tea," Sasha explained in his straightforward manner. "I would have been here earlier to wake you, but I was in the midst of bottling your medication. Once I started to pour, I couldn't break away unless I wanted the entire batch ruined. I'm sorry; I simply couldn't lose the entire lot."

Severus nodded his head once, acknowledging the truth in what Sasha said, then sipped at the cold tea, and his tongue and lips grew numb.

"Kava?" He asked, though he knew the answer. It must be Kava, as normally, he'd be furious about being drugged, but not now. Instead, Severus was filled to the brim with a completely artificial sense of well being.

"Just enough to relax you, I've modified it to strengthen the anti-anxiety properties while diminishing the risk of adverse side affects. You'll find yourself quite gregarious; I do promise you that I will respect your secrets and I will not attempt not to pry. I do require a serious conversation with you, and I need you to be truthful," stated Sasha. "Keep drinking. Have you heard that old saying?_  
_

Drink tea and nourish life; with the first sip, joy;  
With the second sip, satisfaction;  
With the third sip, peace;  
With the fourth, a scone."

"Never heard of that," admitted Severus. He continued to drink the weak tea, and then he shook his head. "No more, please."

"Here, place this on your eyes," Sasha ordered. "It will help with the light sensitivity caused by the Kava."

It was a sleep eye mask, and Severus sniffed at it.

"Chamomile Flowers, Hops, Lavender Buds, Linden Flowers, Marjoram, and Orange Peel? Are you an aromatherapist or a wizard?" He attempted a rusty smile to soften his comment as he feared angering Sasha. It would do Ari no good for Severus to enrage their sole benefactor.

"Do you remember who I truly am?" was the older mage's quick response. "You must, as you're terrified, and your fear appears not to be because of my less than amiable disposition."

Severus nodded once and quickly swallowed.

"I'm always frightened these days," Severus offered by way of an apology. "Merlin's scrote, this stuff has really made me talkative. I didn't want to admit that."

"Well, at least you're not hysterically screaming, so the Kava must be working," Sasha decided after a long moment of silence. "I will not be making of a habit of the Kava tea, by the way."

"That's wise," Severus agreed. "The side effects…"

Severus grimaced, as the damn Kava was making him far too loquacious.

"Adrik, you need to remember that there are a great many stories about me, and some might even be the truth, though most have been distorted beyond all semblances of reality. At one time, I was a fully trained Healer and I'm qualified as a Healer-surgeon. I graduated with Top Marks from the Academy of Bulgarian Healers, so I can assure you that I'm qualified to treat you. I can even deliver the child by Caesarean section," Sasha explained. "It wouldn't be the first one I've done, but I must be truthful. It has been ten years since my last Caesarean."

Caesarean section? Merlin's dirty y-fronts, he hadn't even thought of about the looming difficulties of the baby being born. He completely lacked the proper plumbing!

"I haven't thought about that particular problem," confessed Severus. "I have such doubts that I can actually get to term."

Sasha put his fingers on Severus' lips.

"Oxana believes that you landed in our alley way due to your desperation in finding a Healer that could get you to term. I plan on getting you to term, Adrik. As for herbs, yes, I'm relying on them. Truthfully, I'd rather use magic on you but you've been subjected to a bit too much of that recently. I need to limit my magical intervention on you until your aura isn't such a bloody, chaotic mess. Even after I realign your aura, I'll have to depend on herbs and Muggle medication for some of what ails you."

Sasha then put the sleeping eye mask over Severus' eyes and then secured it into place. That done, he carefully positioned Severus on the pillows.

"Hops in the pillows? You must be a Brew Master to have such a store of Hops," Severus joked.

"Hops have a positive reputation for helping with anxiety and sleep disorders. But enough about herbal remedies, we need to make some rather serious decisions about your medical care, Severus."

"You know who I am." Severus admitted that unwillingly. Damn the Kava, he couldn't even think of lying to Sasha.

"Yes, I do. Don't worry, I've Untabooed your name within these walls because of your fever. The Muggle police department has put a bulletin out on you. It was even on the bloody telly just now, claiming that you're a wanted mass murder. They must have been contacted by the Ministry of Magic. Their involvement means your Aurors are looking for you. Muggle police, Ministry Aurors, Gellert Junior and St. Albus are all hunting you. It will be essential to change your physical appearance, your magical scent and your psyche. Someone may walk into the shop and recognize you. I can not risk that for obvious reasons," Sasha explained.

"Is that why you drugged me? You didn't have to do so. I've never been much of a looker, so change me as you see fit."

"No, I've already built a model for your new disguise. You'll look like you, but you won't. What I wanted to discuss with you is the results of a great deal of research." The Bulgarian wizard paused, as though gathering his courage. "Severus, I _**might**_ be able to salvage your left arm. You won't regain full use, but you won't match the one armed man for which the Muggle Police is looking. Do you wish me to proceed?"

Severus sat up then, the sleeping eye mask disorientating him.

"_YES!"_ was his instantaneous response. "But the Dark Mark? Will he be able to Locate me?"

"You need to know that it will be a lengthy process. Perhaps three months? First, I will have to grow the skin and cajole the nerves to return. The bone will have to be carefully grown as Skele-grow is contra-indicated for pregnant witches. That will take the longest time, and during that time, your arm will be splinted. Each joint will be immobilized in a position of function. You'll be able to hold a cup in your hand, for instance. Whether you'll be able to raise it to your lips is another question. There should be no Dark Mark. Your link to Gellert Junior was broken when you lost your arm."

"I was told that it couldn't be regrown," Severus protested.

"Easy, you need to rest," chastised Sasha. The Dark Wizard once again pushed Severus down back against his pillows. "It's a cutting edge treatment plan that was recently documented in _Mages Medizinische Monatszeitschrift, _so I'd be quite surprised that anyone at St. Mungo's would be aware of it. Like I warned you, it will take some time for the results, and a great deal of effort on my part. Plus the medicinal supplies will be rather costly. Pixie dust, unicorn hair, Acromantula venom, and powder of Romanian Longhorn dragon horn plus a few other exotic compounds that do not grow on trees nor do they fall from the skies. Fortunately, some of what I need does grow on trees."

Sasha softly chuckled, apparently quite amused by his witticism.

"I don't have the funds," Severus slowly admitted.

"Yes, I know. Oxana has taken your funds, generously subsidized by both Oxana and myself, and has gone to market to buy supplies. Now, the question remains, how do you expect to compensate the two of us for our time and effort? While St. Albus might have been willing to financially support you and dress you in silk while your belly swelled with his heir, I'm nowhere near that altruistic…"

The noise Severus made was involuntary, and he began to uncontrollably tremble. Bloody hell, he didn't have any bloody clothes as Sasha had burned them to break his link to Albus.

"Easy, lad, easy. I didn't mean to stir up painful memories with that comment. You need to remember that I had been… on my own… for a great many years before I met Oxana. Decades of extreme solitude has made me less than…. genial. Small talk is not… easy… for me, but I felt I must assure you that I have taken you on as a patient, comprehending full well that you will not be able to pay for your treatment. You will be clothed and fed, not handsomely, but adequately. For payment, among other small tasks, you will work in the shop. Stock shelves and odd jobs mainly."

"Why are you helping me?" Severus questioned.

"My reasons are my own, and I do _**not**_ have to explain them to you." Sasha growled. "Sooner you stop asking, the happier I'll be. Trust me, you would prefer me to be cheerful."

"Thank you," Severus could be courteous, after all. "What other jobs might you require me to do?"

"As for odd jobs, we'll discuss it when you're stronger. I am sure that you possess arcane knowledge of which Oxana and I are both unfamiliar. Perhaps, we could trade? Perhaps you've learned how to fly or perhaps sprout wings. I've always wanted to know how to fly. Might prove useful in a tight spot."

"I know how to fly," Severus insisted. "It's not that hard. I'll teach you and Oxana…"

Sasha softly laughed.

"_**Flying**_, Severus? Now, now. I want you to teach you how to relax through self-hypnosis. Just concentrate on my voice, and do what I say," the Bulgarian wizard requested. "You need to trust me."

"Do I have a choice?" Severus quipped.

"We all have choices. Some are easy, and their only reward is that they are easy. Then there are choices that we live not only once but a million times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives. You must trust me that I will heal you, and in turn, I must have confidence in you. Would it not be easy for you to gain leniency with your Ministry by turning me in? Would not St. Albus look kindly upon you for discovering that his old lover's henchman is still walking to and fro on the Earth?"

"They were… _**lovers**_?" To his shame, Severus' voice broke.

Bloody hell, Albus had been lovers with GELLERT GRINDELWALD? And… and… and… Albus had _**loved**_ the Dark Wizard? And… and… Severus wasn't… proper… wasn't good enough… for the smallest amount of affection from Albus… and yet _**Gellert**_ had _**been**_?

_I can't let Ari know… I can't let her know… Albus loved… Grindlewald… and… he couldn't… tolerate me… long enough to let Ari be born healthy. Am I that unredeemable? I must be… for the only one willing to help me is a mass murdering Dark Wizard. _

To his surprise, he felt Sasha squeeze his right shoulder. No doubt he meant to be comforting, but Severus was too devastated by this latest revelation to appreciate it.

"Again, I have unintentionally wounded you by revealing unhappy truths about the contemptible man you revere and adore. Yes, they were lovers when they were quite young. It was an intense flowering of emotions on both their parts. When they met for the last time, Gellert foolishly believed that he could sway Albus to his reasoning, and a rather naive Albus hoped to redeem Gellert. Truth be told, I found them both rather cloying and maudlin on that infamous date in history," Sasha drolly commented.

"Albus… and… Gellert?" Severus whispered.

"_Tapak! __Da eba! Da eba! Chyort voz'mi_!" Sasha went on for some time, viciously and creatively cursing in assorted languages. "I'm such an idiot. There's no way you'll be able to trance down now. We'll have to work on it tomorrow. Go to sleep, Severus."

The Bulgarian wizard put his hand on Severus' forehead, and whispered softly in Bulgarian.

"Go to sleep, Severus. Do not fear; you'll sleep so deeply that you won't dream."

Severus didn't dream. But until he fell asleep, his thoughts were full of a curly haired blonde hair boy with a wild, gleeful look on his face and another boy with long auburn hair and blue eyes. The two of them insisted on passionately kissing while Severus wept.

* * *

"I now call this emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to order," Minerva announced. "As this is an emergency meeting, normal rules of order have been suspended. Last meeting's notes will be reviewed at our next scheduled meeting."

"You're getting too comfortable in calling these emergency meetings, Albus," Mad Eye Moody barked. There were murmurs of agreement from the various order members. "What happened now? It must be important if Minerva canceled her classes today to go gallivanting through the countryside with you."

Albus was at the head of the table, his right hand rubbing his temple. He ignored Mad Eye's caustic comment and kept silent.

"Albus?" Mad Eye prompted after a few minutes of silence.

"Minerva? Can you tell us why this meeting was called?" Remus Lupin asked. The werewolf appeared quite concerned about Albus's reticence. "What has happened?"

"It's Severus," Minerva explained. It seemed that Albus was still licking his wounds, so that meant she'd have to take charge.

"What has Snivellous done now?" Sirius Black questioned in a bored tone.

Having been a teacher for far too many years, Minerva was able to easily ignore Sirius Black's witty comment.

"As you are all aware, Severus was severely injured by He Who Must Not Be Named. We managed to rescue him and bring him to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, Severus believes that due to his injury, he is no longer able to productively contribute to the Order." Minerva stopped talking for a moment. She needed to compose herself before she continued.

"So, do you want us to pat him on the back?" Sirius quipped. He easily laughed at his witticism. "Throw the greasy git a party and assure him that we still love him in spite of the fact that he's bloody useless to the cause?"

"Severus has left Hogwarts. It is imperative that he is located before Voldemort's forces or the Ministry finds him. Once he is found, you are to inform me _**immediately**_. Under no circumstances is anyone to make contact with him. Remus, Sirius, due to your history with Severus, I must ask you to refrain from the search," Minerva announced. "Dora, I must ask the same thing of you."

"Well, good riddance to bad rubbish," Sirius snorted. "Let him crawl back on his belly to the Malfoys and LeStranges. He's a bloody coward. Always has been, always will be. He was looking for a way out, Albus. He's found it. I say we don't waste our time on locating him."

Silence reigned and Albus then nodded his head once.

"Didn't you ever wonder why I never defended you when you sentenced to Azkaban? There is a very good reason why I believed that you were quite capable of killing James and Lily, Sirius." Albus' voice was quite soft when he spoke.

"How dare you! They were my friends!" Sirus roared. Remus and Dora jumped to their feet in order to prevent the hot-headed Sirius from striking Albus. "I would never betray my friends!"

"Remus Lupin is your friend, is he not?" Albus questioned. His blue eyes were distant.

"Yes, he is!" Sirius protested. "I would never hurt him."

"Yet, during your time at Hogwarts, you were instrumental in nearly killing Severus. Did you not attempt a meeting between Severus Snape and a transformed Remus Lupin, uncaring of the fact that Severus would most likely be killed? Would not Remus have been put down on the very spot when the Ministry found out? For someone you claim to love as a brother, you were awfully careless with his life. Perhaps, the reason why I never bothered defending you was because I felt guilty because I had given you too many chances," Albus admitted.

Remus then easily pushed a stunned Sirius back into his chair.

"I agree that my participation in the search for Severus would be inappropriate," Remus softly stated. "I have, after all, attempted to kill him twice. I can not fault his rather sensible dislike for me due to my… little furry problem."

The werewolf bitterly smiled, and then sat down.

"I agree not to be involved with searching for Severus in my role as Order Member. It's a rather reasonable request, considering I'm newly married to Remus. While I don't believe Severus is aware of the marriage, I do not wish to risk it," Dora agreed. "As an Auror, I will have to search for him."

"Thank you, Dora, for understanding. Sirius, how I wish you were capable of displaying the same consideration. You never thought how Remus would react if he had accidentally killed Severus. How it would permanently wound his soul to know that he was responsible for Severus' death. Is that not the ultimate betrayal? For Remus' sake, I kept the matter quiet. Severus has my absolute confidence, though I have failed him by not fully acknowledging his contributions to our war. We need to find him before anyone else does, for his life is in danger. You're all dismissed." Albus' voice cracked like a whip when he dismissed the Order.

The Order, realizing a dismissal when they heard one, left in mass except for Albus, Minerva and Remus. The werewolf waited until everyone left the room before he spoke. He sat on the edge of the table.

"I've always felt so old compared to Sirius. I always admired his joie de vivre, because he was so bloody irrepressible. Nothing ever fazed him. He and James… were everything I wasn't. Cool, popular. I never reined them in when I was a precept, because I was always terrified of losing their friendships. They harassed Severus unmercifully, and I never told them to stop, because I was secretly afraid that they'd turn on me," the werewolf quietly confessed.

Then Remus softly admitted, "You're not the only one that has failed Severus. I have. Let me help find him. My sense of smell is rather acute; I'd likely be able to determine his position before he even knew I had located him. The others, in order to confirm that it's him, will have to be risk being seen. I won't."

Albus questioningly glanced at Minerva, and then she slowly nodded her head once.

"Your highly developed sense of smell could be quite helpful, as we believed that Severus is being hidden by a witch. We're not sure who it might be, as we have reasonable proof that he won't return to He Who Must Not Be Named. Be careful, Remus," ordered Minerva.

"Under no conditions is Sirius to be involved," Albus reminded him. "He's done more than enough, and I have done nowhere near enough."

Remus nodded his head in acknowledgement, and then left the room.

Minerva let Albus stew in private for a bit, and then finally she had enough of his maudlin broodings.

"Albus, you need a break. Let's go to Diagon Alley. You can pick up some yarn in one of the shops, so you can knit baby booties," Minerva halfheartedly suggested. "Perhaps you could knit a matching blanket?"

"I could visit Slug & Jiggers Apothecary," Albus admitted. "I need some supplies."

* * *

Oxana Kameneva half heartedly entered Slug and Jiggers Apothecary in Diagon Alley. Sasha might love potions and the various components of his trade, but she thoroughly disliked the smell of Slug and Jiggers. One would think that as magi, the managers of the Apothecary would do something about the pungent odor that permeated the air. Even a half heartedly cast air freshening smell would be a noticeable improvement on the stench.

Carefully, she took out Sasha's list of needed supplies from Slug and Jiggers, and she grimaced when she saw that Sasha had magically added a few more supplies to the list. At this rate, she'd have to trade some of Sasha's more exotic potions to pay for everything.

_A skein of unicorn hair? A plank of_ _Holly wood? Branches of Willow? Wengewood, Indian Rosewoo and Oak rods? Bloody hell, you are seriously considering regrowing his arm! Are you building a brace? Where the hell am I supposed to get clamps of Desert Ironwood and Paduak? The wand shop? _

Carefully, she schooled her features and located the Russian immigrant persona that she found quite useful at times. Strengthening her accent would help her be dismissed as a savage witch from the Old Country. Haughty Brit witches and wizards always looked down on foreign mages, their superiority complexes refusing to consider that a foreigner might know more than they did.

"I'd like some assistance please," she requested at the counter.

Naturally, the sales people were too busy to assist her, as they had far more important people with which to deal. Hissing her frustration, wishing that she could have brought Grisha with her as her familiar would be a good audience for a few astringent observations; she began to help herself to the various potions components.  
_  
What the bloody hell is vallmo, Sasha? Why do you need purple, not red, not white and most assuredly not yellow vallmo?_

* * *

Albus and Minerva stepped into the highly organized chaos known as Slug & Jiggers. Albus was immediately assisted by several eager sales people and he had just completed his purchase in rapid order when there was a bit of an altercation.

"You there! You're not allowed to help yourself!" One of the saleswizards bellowed at a hapless customer.

The female witch bestowed a withering look upon the sales clerk. She was tall, athletic looking witch with grey streaked dark hair. Her clothes were nondescript, and there was nothing about her physically that would cause someone to give her a second glance.

"If no one wishes to help me, I must therefore help myself," curtly stated the witch. "Since you finally had decided to acknowledge my existence, perhaps you can tell me what exactly vallmo is. I was instructed to get the purple vallmo, not the red, white or yellow."

She had a strong Eastern European accent, and a rather no-nonsense look about her. There was a sense of familiarity about her, as though she and Minerva had met before. Minerva debated the issue and thought that perhaps the reason for the feeling of deja vu was that the witch reminded her a bit of Alastor Moody. Yes, the witch had both eyes and apparently possessed all her various original appendages in working condition, but there was a way she carried herself and how her eyes constantly inspected her surroundings as though expecting trouble.

"Vallmo?" The saleswizard snorted his disbelief at her request. "We don't have foreign potion ingredients here at Slug & Jiggers; we only carry proper Ministry approved supplies."

"I need purple vallmo. Where do you suggest I find it?" The witch's accent grew stronger as she seemed less than impressed with the sales help and was not afraid to voice her disatisfaction.

"Go to a Muggle herbologist shop as they might carry unapproved items. But I'd be worried about the quality of the product. You should use properly authorized potion components."

The saleswizard appeared unconcerned, and Minerva wasn't surprised when Albus interrupted the discussion.

"Vallmo is a Bulgarian form of poppy. The purple is used in the strongest painkilling potions, as the purple has a greater concentration of Thebaine. I highly doubt that they carry purple Vallmo here, as it's only used by Durmstrang-trained potion makers. There aren't many Durmstrang Potion Masters in London, I'm afraid," Albus regretfully admitted.

The witch muttered a caustic comment in Russian, and then she dramatically sighed.

"Any suggestions what I might be able to use instead? As you have correctly guessed, I'm picking up supplies for a Durmstrang Potions Master, who is apparently the only blessed one in all of the United Kingdom. Just my luck," she snapped.

"_Papaver somniferum_. Your Potions Master will need three times the amount of scarlet _Papaver somniferum_ to equate the request amount of purple Vallmo. He'll need to rarefy the mixture down. Boil it for two hours over a blue flame. Make sure it's _**blue**_. If it's not, it won't be concentrated enough. The mixture will be a rather distinct shade of lemon," Albus explained. "In case he's concerned, the Bulgarian Ministry Potions Department authorized the exchange about three months ago."

"Thank you, sir. It is an honor to meet a true scholar among such rude savages," the Russian witch stated. She then made a formal bow. "I am Oxana Kameneva. As you can guess by my proper Received Pronunciation, I am an immigrant to this noble country."

"Honored to meet you. I am Albus Dumbeldore," Albus responded, complete with formal bow.

Minerva was watching the Russian witch, bemused how Albus could turn a simple shopping expedition into a tutoring session. Perhaps because she was watching the witch so intently, she noticed that the witch's eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Forgive me for being presumptuous," the witch declared, though her voice held no apology. "Are you THE Albus Dumbledore? Hogwarts Headmaster? Renowned defeater of Gellert Grindelwald?"

"Yes, I am he," Albus admitted. "I'm must regretfully admit that most people believe that I'm taller."

The witch heard something in Albus' tone, as she again bowed.

"_**Forgiveness**_, Honored Sir. My Bulgarian Potion Master was profoundly affected by Gellert Grindelward's reign of horror. He rarely speaks of those Dark Times but he still experiences terrible night terrors. Perhaps, you may help me once more? I have a stepson, Adrik, who is expecting his first child later this year, and I would like the chance to read up on the hallowed Hogwarts and its traditions as I attended the Magical Academy of St. Petersburg. What book would you recommend?"

"_Hogwarts, a History_," Minerva inserted, as no doubt Kameneva didn't want to hear a two hour dissertation. "I'm Minerva McGonagall and I'm Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. I teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts. That's required reading for our First Years."

Again, the slightest reaction on behalf of the Russian witch when Minerva had mentioned her name.

"Honored to make your acquaintance," Oxana stated. "I most humbly thank you for your assistance. I must get back to purchasing potion supplies as my Potions Master has a patient he is treating. Hopefully, the staff will be more helpful. They have so far steadfastly ignored me."

Her tone was caustic.

"Then, perhaps I can continue to be of assistance. Bradley?" Albus called.

A young wizard jumped to attention.

"May I help you, Sir?" The sales clerk was literally quivering in his eagerness to help Dumbledore.

"Would it be possible for you to assist Ms. Kameneva here? I'm afraid your usual excellent customer service has failed her miserably," Albus easily requested, determinedly ignoring Bradley's crestfallen expression. "Madam, if I'm still Headmaster at Hogwarts in eleven years, I look forward to meeting your grandchild. We pride ourselves on providing the very best in magical education."

"It is a true shame that I won't be there to see you meet her," Oxana replied. "I could tell her how helpful you have been to her family and her."

Minerva detected the slightest whiff of amusement from the Russian witch which was swiftly repressed. The three of them then said their goodbyes, as Kameneva began to thoroughly bludgeon Bradley with a rapid fired list of exotic potion components.

"_Tribulus terrestris?_ I need ten grams of it finely chopped. None of your backtalk about how it's unapproved by your blessed Ministry, Bradley. Find it for me, or do I need to ask the Estimable Dumbledore for further assistance?_"_

* * *

A subdued Albus seemed quite distracted after Slug & Jiggers, but continued to make various purchases at assorted shops, and Minerva finally stopped dead in front of him. The Headmaster nearly bumped into her, but managed to avoid her at the very lastminute.

"Where is your mind, Albus?" Minerva snapped. "I've been talking to you for the last fifteen minutes, and you just agreed with me that I should dye your hair scarlet and gold for the next Gryffindor Quidditch match."

"Perhaps, that is a bit ostentatious," Albus admitted. "Perhaps you could accept one long braid of scarlet and gold instead as an adequate display of Gryffindor spirit?"

Minerva's eyes narrowed and she said something distinctively unladylike.

"Very well, Minerva, there's no need to use _**that**_ type of language. I'll tell you what's bothering me. That Russian Auror Kameneva, I've met her before, somewhere, but I can't remember where. There's something about her that's familiar to me, but I can't determine what it is. I'm thinking that it's important, Minerva."

"She's a Russian Auror? No wonder she reminded me so strongly of Mad Eye. I'm surprised they let her go, aren't they particularly zealous? Don't the Russian Aurors vow to defend the mother country until their coffin is nailed shut?" Minerva quipped.

"'That could be why she's so familiar, she does act like Mad Eye, and training at St. Petersburg means she was an Auror. The Russian Aurors experienced great losses tracking down Grindlewald's remaining forces, so she may have decided to retire after too much trauma. The Russians doggedly insisted that not all of Grindlewald's various lieutenants had been captured or killed, and made the unilateral decision to keep searching for them. About thirty years ago, you remember that horrific scandal about the Russian Auror's body being dumped in an alley in Geneva. They claimed she was on a skiing vacation and had been jumped, but my sources in Switzerland assured me that she was searching for Damyan Draganov as Russians were convinced that he was on the run."

"Draganov?" Minerva shook her head, signifying her disapproval. "His very name gives me chills."

"He's long dead, Minerva. They found his body, salted and then burned it. Bloody hell," Albus cursed as he stared at a flyer that had been tacked to a wall. The picture displayed a wild eyed, screaming Severus Snape bucking and jerking in a feeble attempt at escaping the hands of his jailers. It had been taken when Severus was much younger, during his brief stay at Azkaban and magically matured to his current age. "Look at that. They have flyers of Severus everywhere, offering a suitable reward for the capture of such a horrific Death Eater. Rufus is determined to prove to one and all that he's not Fudge."

"A ten thousand Galleons? Severus should be honored at such a price," Minerva quipped. "Bloody hell that means everyone will be searching for him."

"Yes," Albus admitted. "Let us return to Hogwarts, we might have good news waiting for us. If not, I need to start knitting. I truly fear that I purchased entirely too many knitting patterns. I may not get them all finished by September."

"Well, perhaps you don't have to complete them all by September. Several of those patterns are for toddlers."

* * *

The last few hours had been rather productive.

Oxana had managed to acquire all of Sasha's requested materials, and she had traded one small vial of Phoenix tears for all of the necessary potions supplies. The transaction had ended in her favor as she now had a heavy bag of galleons, sickles and knuts in her possession. She had several vials of Phoenix tears acquired during her years as an Auror, and she was willing to part with one vial in order not to bankrupt Sasha.

The Wandsmaster Ollivander had been quite helpful with providing the necessary wood, and their bartering session, while playfully bickering, had ended with a fair exchange. Damn her ethics, she didn't enjoying cheating honest folk when dickering about prices. Slug & Jiggers, on the other hand….

Wonders of wonders, Oxana had even met Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, had been able to critically judge them and she was willing to admit to the remote possibility that Sasha was slightly biased in his view toward Dumbledore. Or perhaps the exhausted looking Dumbledore had changed over the succeeding decades, as God knew that Sasha was no longer the same man he had been sixty years previously.

Minerva, she had found herself instinctively liking, and she could easily imagine Adrik using her to buffer the worst of the force of nature known as Dumbledore. The witch seemed maternal and protective, and Oxana imagined that the witch unleashing her inner Boudicca was the sight to behold. She'd be in the back of the chariot, shrieking and holding a spear against her enemies. An irate Minerva would be a true force with which to be reckoned.

Oxana, being a rather strong willed witch, was quite partial to other forceful witches. In her biased opinion, there weren't enough of her iron-willed sisters in the world. Life would be so less complicated if the sisterhood was only a smidgeon stronger.

She had acquired the needed intel on Dumbledore by purchasing several books, and then, as Oxana had debated leaving Diagon Alley to return home, she had been drawn to the Magical Menagerie. In the front window, there had been a large sign that said, "FREE TO GOOD HOME!" In smaller letters, there was a disclaimer of "So sorry! Absolutely no returns accepted on this special, limited offer". She had watched in bemusement, as a hapless victim, wearing protective gloves, carefully placed a female Archangel cat in the window. The female cat was a magnificent example of the breed, and Oxana had to wince when the hissing cat viciously clawed the sales clerk, leaving an open gaping wound in his lower leg. Bits of muscles and tendons peeked through the ugly gouge.

"I hate that bloody cat!" screamed the ill fated sales clerk. "It's possessed by the bloody devil! We should just put it down."

Well, since the cat was free to a good home, and Sasha didn't possess a familiar, she had acquired Nadya. She had a long discussion with Nadya about how such rude behavior would not be accepted in her new home, and a purring Nadya had demurely agreed to meet Sasha to see if they were suitable bondmates. Again, she had ended up quite well in the deal, as the manager of the Magical Menagerie had given her a large stipend for plasters, potions and other needed medical supplies just as long as she swore an oath never to return the cat to them.

Grisha greeted her with a worried purr when she returned home, heavily loaded with various purchases. His ears flattened when he realized that there was something living among her many acquisitions. He was quite protective of his status as Lord and Master of the residence, and he was loathe to share his personal retainers with anyone.

"Leave Nadya alone," she chastised her familiar. "I bought her for Sasha. He needs a familiar, and I thought you might like a girlfriend."

Grisha made a chirping noise of appreciation, and then he sounded his worried purr. He pushed against her leg, as though wanting her to follow him.

"All right! All right! I'm coming! I'm coming! Nadya, I'll be back in a few minutes."

All in all, a good day, until she had gotten home and Sasha wasn't there to greet her. What the bloody hell had happened?

"Is it Adrik?" she asked Grisha, who loudly trilled an agreement.

"Damn it, what the bloody hell has happened now?" Oxana groaned.

* * *

Voldemort's anger grew by leaps and bounds when he heard Severus Snape had left Hogwarts.

"He has betrayed me," he growled.

"Actually, my Lord, I must respectfully disagree," Lucius Malfoy carefully stated as he secretly feared that both his wife and son had something to do with Severus' disappearance. "If anything, his disappearance from Hogwarts is truly inspired."

"Go on," Voldemort snapped. "I fail to see how Severus disappearing from Hogwarts means that he's following my explicit instructions."

"You wished him to be a distraction to Dumbledore. Will not Dumbledore be forced to spend time looking for Severus? Also the Ministry and the Muggles Police Departments are searching for him. If there are several sightings of Severus in various locations, would not they be forced to investigate each and every sighting? Would it not diminish their ability to stand against you? My Lord, Severus Snape has created a potential for distraction far greater than you had first envisioned. He should be commended, not castigated, for his initiative."

Lucius paused, and he attempted to hide his nervousness.

"You shouldn't be so nervous, Lucius, when offering your opinion. Yes, you're quite right; Severus has given me a golden opportunity. We still have Polyjuice and various bits and pieces of Severus from his vacation with us. You're to find Muggles, Confound them, and give them the Polyjuice. Then release them in several heavily populated areas, and enjoy the terror and the chaos. While everyone is concentrating on Severus, we will plague the Muggles."

Voldemort laughed, and it was a chilling sound.

"Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war!"

* * *

A/N # 3 Oxana is a little biased against British mages so her opinions on Britons are suspect. Perhaps the reason why the salesclerks in Slug and Jiggers were ignoring her as they get a commission based on sales? Not because she was Russian? :D

* * *


	20. Chapter 20

A/N # 1 – Excessively Perky gets major credit for the Remus/Sirius scene. I asked her a few questions and she banged out the gist of the conversation. I added a wee bit to it.

A/N # 2 - This is actually chapter 19 1/2

* * *

Times like this, Remus Lupin wished he was a little bit more like Neville Longbottom.

Yes, right now he could certainly use a bit of Neville in his soul. Others might dismiss Longbottom as lack witted and fumble fingered, but he was Gryffindor through and through. After all, he had the strength of character to attempt to prevent his friends from escaping after hours from the Gryffindor dorms. Yes, he had ended up petrified thanks to Hermoine's quick wand, but damn it, the boy had tried.

Dora gave him a quick smile for support. She could sense his unease, but she didn't know the reason why.

"I can't believe Dumbledore mentioned the Shrieking Shack incident. That was so many years ago," Sirius exclaimed. "Snivellous would have peed his knickers if he came face to face with Remus's little furry problem. It was all in good fun."

Sirius Black laughed and then collapsed gracefully onto the couch, casually tossing back his long, curly hair.

Merlin's scrote, it was like Remus was eleven years old, and he was fearful of being an outcast at Hogwarts. How overjoyed he had been when the cool boys had decided to befriend him and pick on someone else, a shabbily dressed boy with a funny name.

"It wasn't good fun, Sirius. Why don't you ever grow up? I could have _**killed**_ Severus," Remus protested. "They would have put me down. Don't you remember how James and I were so furious with you over your insanity?"

"But you came around after less than a month, Moony. It's impossible to stay mad with me as I've been assured that I'm quite charming. Why are you upset at me now? That was a long time ago, and you've agreed with me before the greasy git needed to have an eye kept on him. Besides, if it weren't for me, you would have eaten Harry, Ron and Hermione and probably Snape, too. Though you probably would have thrown him up as he looks like a greasy bunch of gristle. We've had plenty of fun with Snivellus before, and you always stood by us keeping lookout, if nothing else. When I told Harry that you sometimes made us feel ashamed of picking on Severus, you know that was mostly for your benefit."

Dora looked queasy, perhaps due to her pregnancy, or the fact that Sirius was discussing Remus' little furry problem in the same breathe as cold blooded murder.

"You mostly kept quiet, really. If you didn't think we were doing the right thing, why did you help make the Map, anyway? You thought it was a good idea back then to help us sneak up on Snivellus. It didn't turn out to be necessary anyway, when you think about it. Look at what James was able to do right out in front of everybody! If we weren't going to be punished for that, with half the school watching, we might as well have done whatever we wanted anyway, instead of sneaking around with the Cloak and all."

Remus wasn't on the higher moral ground right now, because he had verbally gone along with just about everything--and he did punt his Potion on that horrible night when they discovered Peter Pettigrew was the true betrayer of Lily and James.

He was pretty quiet right now, in fact, because Remus realized that he has always been going along with Sirius just to keep the peace. It's long past time for Remus to, pardon the vernacular, grow a set. He is to be a father, and he wanted to be a proper father who teaches dhis child right from wrong by example.

"Besides, I didn't see you telling Harry that the Headmaster sacked you even before all those letters came in," Sirius said, his eyes narrowing. "And you didn't tell him what really went on in the Shack, either. So don't go all holier than thou on me about this. Now, I can actually see why Peter betrayed us. Maybe we tried out a few too many jinxes on him before we did them to Snivelly. He led a dog's life, not a rat's, some days."

Sirius smiled his winning smile, and Remus was sickened by how often that smile had charmed him. Merlin's bloody scrote, he loved Sirius but there were times he didn't _**like**_ him.

"But we did everything to make your transformations better, Remus. You had fun romping through Hogsmeade, too. So don't try to pretend you're so much better than James or I was. At least I didn't almost eat him the last time--that was completely you. Of course, I made sure that Snivelly stayed out of things through all that, it would have been too much to deal with him awake."

This was new.

"Precisely what did you do?" Remus uneasily questioned.

"Oh, nothing that would hurt him much, I just let his head graze the wall a few times, bumped his head on the ceiling. You should have heard the thuds, Dora. Obviously his head is all empty. I mean, I fail to understand why Albus is so worried about Severus. It's not like he's much use to the Order now, anyway, is it? I'm surprised Moldiemort didn't just finish him off when he realized that Severus was spying for Albus."

"You do remember that it was Snape who brought you and the children in from the Forest, don't you? If you'd had your way, I would have murdered _**all of you**_," Remus reminded Sirius.

Remus' blood ran cold at that horrible thought.

"And you conveniently forget that it has been Snape all these past few years that has saved the Order over and over again. He's given us needed intelligence that has saved countless lives. Do you forget that he helped saved Harry at the Ministry last year? You remember the trap where Harry thought he was rescuing you?"

"Well, jolly good for St. Snivelly. I really don't understand you, Remus. Why are you defending Severus?" Sirius questioned. Black appeared sincerely puzzled at Remus' annoyance. "You know he only wanted me back in Azkaban, and it would have looked bad to have lost the kiddies in the process. He only did it to get that Order of Merlin. I heard he pitched a fit when he lost that Order of Merlin when I escaped. Wish I could have seen it. Must have been something, I remember how riled up he'd get with us, and how he'd try not to show how much we upset him. I caught him crying one time, and he hexed me with these huge pimples that lasted for two weeks! Poppy was vexed as she couldn't remove them!"

Sirius laughed uproariously, and again, he smiled. This time, his charming smile failed to win over Remus, because Remus remembered all too well the bloody wreckage of Severus Snape in Albus' office and the inhuman noises that a fearful, injured Severus had made.

"This teenage stupidity has got to stop, Sirius. We're grownups now. He was nearly dead when they rescued him. I was there; I saw what they carried out of Albus' office. You disparage him as a coward, but it takes a great deal of courage to be a double agent for Albus," Remus protested.

"Oh, that. He's only spying for Albus because Albus kept him out of Azkaban," Sirius insisted.

"Bloody hell, get out!" Remus' temper was not easily roused but once it was, he knew it would get ugly fast. "Get out _**now**_."

"Very well, I'm leaving. Dora, you look absolutely radiant this evening. I'll be back soon," Sirius promised. "Remus gets like this at times, but he can never stay mad at me for long."

With an easy saunter, the irrepressible Sirius Black left the room. Remus sat down next to wife, and growled.

"He is not going to weasel his way into being Godfather, do you understand me? I want our child to have godparents that have morals."

"Bloody hell," Dora laughingly agreed. "That's supposedly one of the better members of my gene pool there. Doesn't give me much hope for the wee one."

"Don't worry, Dora. Aristotle will grow up to be a kind and sensitive soul," Remus assured her. "No doubt, he'll have hair that turns pink when he's embarrassed."

"Aristotle? We're not naming our baby, Aristotle," Dora snapped. "We've already discussed it, her name will be Aphrodite. Come on, love, rest for a bit."

She positioned herself so Remus could rest his head in her lap. Tenderly, he kissed her belly.

"I have to be stronger, Nymphadora. I can't let our child grow up to be like me. So fearful of being an outcast that he doesn't dare raise his voice in protest when wrong is being committed," insisted Remus.

Stroking her husband's graying hair, Dora attempted to soothe him.

"Give yourself more credit, Remus."

"I can't," he protested. "I never protested when they harassed Severus. It was all stupid school boy stunts."

"Why does Sirius hate Severus so much? I'm not particularly fond of Severus, but he's certainly proved his loyalty to Albus over the years."

"Severus and Lily were quite close when they were younger. They were best friends in fact," Remus admitted.

"Really? What happened?" Dora's voice was calm and non-accusing.

"James always had a crush on Lily. She was pretty, but not as pretty as this purple haired vixen I know," Remus teased. He then turned serious. "James was jealous, I guess, that Lily preferred Severus' company over his. So Sirius and James kept trying to prove to Lily that Severus was no good, and finally, they won the war. Lily was no longer friendly with Severus and I remember how devastated Severus was. It was like he had lost his only friend, and naturally, James, Sirius and Peter thought his sorrow was such bloody grand fun."

"I can understand why Severus hates Sirius," Dora admitted. "But love, come to bed. Pregnant witches need a great deal of reassurances that their husbands still find them sexy."

* * *

Minerva left Albus' quarters, and she found herself in front of Filius Flitwick's door, having no comprehension of how she had gotten there. Hesitantly, she knocked on his door, hoping that the Charms Master was willing to talk.

His gentle voice answered her and he warmly welcomed her. She entered to find Filius adding the finishing touches to his fairy lights. Flitwick was in a festive mood if he was decorating with fairy lights, or else he was attempting to bolster his mood.

"Behave now, ladies, I have company," he gently instructed the blinking fairies.

Minerva sank into a chair, and she put her hands on her head.

"Minerva, love, what ever is the matter?" Filius tenderly asked.

Filius' compassion burst her emotional dam. She burst into tears, sobbing hysterically until she had cried herself out. Fortunately, Filius, being a true gentleman, had a ready handkerchief for her.

"Filius, will you shrive me?" She requested.

"Bloody hell, Minerva, what have you done?" He gently questioned her.

"I need to be shrived," Minerva repeated. "This entire situation with Severus has gone utterly pear shaped, and it's entirely my fault."

Filius pulled up a chair next to her, and he ordered her to continue her story.

"Severus ran away because he was utterly gutted when Albus canceled their Bonding. His mistaken belief is that he had somehow angered Albus, and that's the reason why Albus reneged on their agreement. The truth of the matter is Albus canceled it because I browbeat him into doing so. I accused Albus of forcing his will on Severus… actually, I accused him of emotional raping Severus because Severus wasn't strong enough to defend himself against the almighty Albus Dumbledore," Minerva admitted. "I'm no better than Albus as I was convinced that I knew what was best for Severus."

"Are you done with your pity party?" Filius sharply questioned. "Pull yourself together, girl. Severus needs you right now, and sobbing hysterically over what you might have done won't help the situation."

"Somehow, I wasn't expecting you to give me a pep talk," Minerva quipped. Her eyes were red rimmed, and she tiredly smiled at the Charms Master. "Nor a good kick in the arse."

"Albus meant well but he did overwhelm Severus into agreeing to the Bonding. Severus didn't truly want to be Bonded to Albus. He did it because he felt there were no other options available to him. He can't teach, the Death Eaters are no doubt looking for him and with his medical issues? Minerva, he is truly _**terrified**_ of Albus. I sat with him over the weekend, I _**witnessed**_ his nightmares. It was horrific, Minerva, he kept pleading with Albus not to hurt him."

They sat in silence for a bit, and then Filius spoke once more.

"The situation was lovingly and compassionately completely mishandled. With the very best of intentions, we utterly botched it. Severus desperately needed a Mind Healer, but he knows too much for us to send him to the St. Mungo's Mind Healer. So we kept him here in a literal prison cell in the infirmary. Albus needed to treat Severus with kid gloves, and instead, Albus overwhelmed him with a literal ocean of munificence and largesse. Albus meant well, truly he did, but Severus was busy shattering into a billion pieces at the time, and he blamed himself for not being properly appreciative of the magnanimous Albus."

"Albus believes that he's being Warded by a witch," Minerva explained. "Whoever she is, Albus calls her a very accomplished spinner of magical flows, as her Wards are both subtle and substantial. Could it be Cissie Malfoy?"

"No," Filius easily answered. "Cissie's magic is rather tentative, and I doubt being married to Lucius Malfoy has increased her self-confidence in her magical ability. He did boast that he married her for her looks, after all, not her magical ability. Of the three sisters, Andromeda would best match that description, though her magic isn't subtle. Bellatrix is like a rampaging dragon, sheer quantity and very little finesse."

"Filius? Could you find Severus?" Minerva hopefully questioned.

"I might. Albus' Searching might be bouncing off this witch's wards because he's just too forceful. Sometimes, being a mouse is better than being a lion, Minerva. Take my hand."

* * *

_They were mentally joined in an intimacy far greater than physical sex. She was Filius and Filius was Minerva and yet they were an amalgamation of both Filius and Minerva. The spark that was Filius-Minerva was busy searching for the wounded soul known as Severus, and it was time consuming. Then, Filius-Minerva tasted-sensed-found the ravaged Severus, found the wards that protected him. It took time, but Filius discovered how the Wards resonated and they eased beneath them. Focusing on Severus, they quickly entered his body._

_He was deeply asleep but there was someone next to him, softly singing a tune. His voice, was highly accented, was pleasant and soothing._

"_More sokol pie, Voda na Vardaro, More sokol pie, Voda na Vardaro."_

_The mage continued to softly sing as he treated Severus. Carefully, Filius slightly opened Severus' eyes to see where he was. The mage had long white hair, neatly braided and a short, trimmed beard. His piercing green eyes narrowed as he abruptly knew that he wasn't alone._

_"What is this, Dumbledore? You've added Possession to your bag of tricks? Out, damn'd spot!"_

_They were viciously cast out of Severus, their souls sent on a roundabout way back to their bodies. The mage was informing them in no uncertain terms that he was in complete control of their return to their physical selves, and that they best enjoy the ride. _

When they woke, they were both lying facedown on Filius' floor. Many hours had past, and every inch of their body was aflame in agony.

"I hurt," whispered Minerva.

"So do I," Filius admitted. "But who the bloody hell was that?"

* * *

Oxana stepped into Sasha's bedroom, and she found him intricately casting.

"Someone, someones got underneath your wards, Oxana. They weren't able to do too much, but they found him, and they saw me. It wasn't Albus. At first, I thought it was, but he should have been able to break free of the soulride I sent them on. No, it was two of the Hogwarts' Instructors, as I followed them back to the school."

"Damn it, I'm getting sloppy," she hissed, furious that she had bungled up the Wards.

"No, no, no. Your wards are fine, whoever it was, is a very strong mage. He's not completely human, as I tasted… Goblin… in his essence. I've modified your wards to keep out mixed bloods and non-humans. I never thought of the possibility that there was a mixbreed mage in Albus' menagerie."

"Is it time to move?" Oxana questioned.

"We should think of it, and be ready to move as soon as Adrik is able to be moved. Perhaps we could visit Rada? She's always insisting that I should leave England and move to Bermuda. Wouldn't you like to live in Bermuda? I'll contact her, Snezhana and the others. While Gellert is good as dead in his luxury cell in Nurmengard, the Brotherhood still remains as long as two of us live."


	21. Chapter 21

A/N # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt dutifully reported the first sighting of Severus Snape to Albus. The runaway Potions Master had been allegedly sighted in County Sligo, Ireland by a rather alert garda. The garda, knowing enough not to directly confront Severus, had dutifully informed her supervisors at the Garda Síochána na hÉireann. In turn, the Garda had contacted the Severus Snape Task force, which was nothing more than an elaborate front for the Auror Department.

"Drumcliffe? What is he doing in Drumcliffe?" Albus softly questioned. "I wonder whatever is behind his strange desire to visit Yeats' grave?"

"Albus?" Kingsley prompted after a few minutes of waiting for a pensive Albus to respond with appropriate instructions. "How do you wish to proceed?"

"Severus fled due to me, so it would quite detrimental if I'm involved with his extraction from Drumcliffe. Minerva will have to be informed. Severus trusted her; perhaps she'll be able to convince him of the necessity of returning to Hogwarts."

But there was a small problem to Albus' perfect plan to rescue the traumatized Severus from himself, Voldemort and the Minstry. Well, _**besides**_ that small voice that reminded Albus Dumbledore that there was a strong chance that Minerva McGonagall had lost the trust of one Severus Snape.

Minerva did not answer her floo.

Aberforth and his lovely legs were working as it was Witches' Night at the tavern, Arthur and Molly were not home and Elphias was on a much needed holiday with his wife, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Perhaps there was even a great-great-grandchild or three that had snuck in somewhere, Albus wasn't quite certain as he had long since lost count of the Doge descendants. As the valuable minutes ticked away, Albus realized that there was no one available that he could trust in the Order to send with Kingsley.

It was a choice between the devil and deep blue sea, Sirius Black or Remus Lupin…

Or _**himself**_…

"I'll have to go," Albus regretfully decided.

* * *

The terrified Severus Snape saw Albus and Shacklebolt and he gingerly moved away from the two wizards. Snape's dark eyes were wild from fright, and his eyes shifted back and forth, attempting to find an escape from the two strangely dressed men. Deliberately, Albus held out his hands to prove that they were empty.

"Easy, Severus," Albus gently whispered. "Let Kingsley and me assist you. Please, don't run, Severus. I know you're terrified, but please don't run. We truly desire to help you. I know you're rightfully vexed with me, but let me assist you."

"Better hurry, Albus, the Aurors will be here shortly," Kingsley tersely reminded him.

A desperate Severus then made a break for it, running away from Albus and Kingsley as though he had wings on his feet. Regretfully, Albus flicked and swished his wand, and caught Severus right in the back with a well cast _Petrificus Totalus_ spell. The spell's effect was instantaneous with a paralyzed Severus falling to the asphalt. His impact was softened by a large feather mattress that quickly appeared to cushion his fall.

Albus, possessing a speed he thought long diminished, reached Severus' side before the far younger Kingsley did, and he tenderly placed his hand against Severus' head so he could negate part of the spell, just enough so Severus could breathe and talk. But like bloody hell would he let Severus have control over his feet as Albus was a tired, ancient wizard who couldn't dare hope to run like that again. Severus' dark frightened eyes stared into Albus' soul as the younger man pleaded, "Help me, please, help me, _**please**_. Oh my God, why won't anyone help me?"

"Severus, we wish to help you," Albus softly stated. "You're justly displeased with me; I will not argue that fact…"

"Who are you? Why do you call me Sever..us? What have you done to me?" Severus questioned. There was true panic in his voice. "Why can't I move my arms and legs? Why did that girl scream that I'm a murderer? I've never hurt anyone in my life. I swear. _**I**_ _**swear**_. _**WHO ARE YOU**_?"

"Easy," Albus whispered. Carefully, he put his hand against Severus' forehead, needing to Delve to see how badly damaged Severus was.

He Delved, and then Albus abruptly withdrew from the man's mind. Then, he gently closed Severus' eyes with his fingertips. The fight left Severus' body as he collapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep.

"This isn't Severus," Albus tersely informed Kingsley. "It's a Muggle. His name is Daniel and he was assaulted by three strangers who forced him to drink something rather sharp-tasting. When he woke, someone was screaming that he was a murder and he ran like the very hounds of hell were after him. I've put him to sleep for at least an hour."

"They're Polyjuicing Muggles, Albus?" Kingsley intently questioned. "Well, at least he'll revert back to his true physical form before he wakes. We'll have to Obliviate his memories."

Albus nodded his head once in weary acceptance.

"I'll stay with Daniel. When the rest finally arrive, I'll explain to them that he's not Severus," Kingsley promised Albus.

"I fear that this will not be the last false sighting, Kingsley. Voldemort wanted to use a kidnapped Severus as a distraction, and it appears that he's adapted his plans to match the current situation. A few strategic sightings of faux Severuses here and there will create an atmosphere of uncontrollable fear among both Magic born and Muggles, and it will tie up resources that could be used to keep Voldemort in check."

"I'll make sure to mention that also," promised Shacklebolt. "I'll keep you informed."

* * *

Oxana gave Sasha a brief, succinct overview of her day, including her bantering with Albus Dumbledore. Like she expected, her personal Dark Wizard immediately separated the wheat from the chaff, and focused on the truly important issues facing them.

"I can't believe that you got me a familiar," Sasha calmly stated. Then, with a slightly anxious tone, he reminded Oxana of a basic, inescapable and implacable biological truth. "You do know that there will be _**litters **_of _**kittens**_ in our future."

"That's only if Nadya decides she likes Grisha, plus they only breed once every ten years or so. The average litter size for an Archangel cat is one kitten which is why they're so highly prized as familiars, besides their extreme intelligence and their longevity," Oxana reminded him. "Can we possibly talk about more important issues rather kittens?"

"We're about to be overrun by litters of kittens; what could be more important that that?" Sasha questioned, obviously dumbfounded by her belief that anything could be more serious than an imminent horde of cute and cuddly, warm and fuzzy four legged creatures that would descend on his shop and destroy his livelihood with their razor sharp claws.

"Your patient and the various mages who are looking for him, for _**one**_. Aren't you a wee bit concerned that _**his**_ mixed breed mage breeched my wards after I spoke to _**him**_?" Oxana curtly reminded Sasha.

"I was troubled, but now I'm not," Sasha calmly admitted. "There's no use being worried, as there's nothing I can do. I can't leave the shop; I've tied the boy into the heartstone so the child won't drain him dry while I attempt to repair his arm."

"The heartstone?" Oxana interrupted. She bit her lip then, to prevent herself from blurting out a multitude of questions. Sasha always knew what he was doing and possessed assorted back up plans in place just in case something went wrong. She owed her life to one of his obsessive, compulsive backup plans.

"Yes, the heartstone. No, I've not lost my mind. Yes, I know the shop's wards are completgely dependant on the strength of the heartstone, but we've been feeding it daily for over twenty years, so it shouldn't be weakened too badly. Yes, there was no other option available if I wanted to keep him and the child alive as he's utterly drained. Yes, in spite of my better judgment, I'm helping the lad for a variety of obscure motives, far more than just my overwhelming guilt for Dana and Iskra, and no, I don't feel the need to further explain my motivations. Yes, it's likely I've gone utterly astray in the head and yes, you're quite correct to be quite vexed with me as I'm a nutter putting you in needless risk for our little stray," Sasha easily answered her unspoken questions. "Oh, and yes, I truly appreciate my new fuzzy, four legged, best friend, and I'm planning on immediately planting more catnip in the garden so I can spoil her rotten. I haven't had a familiar since that bastard got my crup, Galen. I've quite missed having one."

"Are you sure you're not a Legilimens, love?" Oxana quipped after a long pause to thoroughly digest Sasha's dissertation.

"No, I'm just a superb Occlumens, because I've long since walled off anything faintly resembling human emotions. My aloofness is for the Greater Good after all, Oxana. When I lose control of my emotions, it's not pretty and people die," Sasha calmly stated. "Adrik can't be moved from the shop until his treatment is completed. St. Albus could walk through that door right now, surrounded by hordes of his dedicated followers, imperiously demand that I turn Adrik over to him and the boy couldn't leave the shop. I've started his treatment and he can _**not**_ be moved. St. Albus would just have to accept the simple truth that the boy and their daughter will die if they're abruptly disconnected from the heartstone. Dumbledore can sulk and choke on that bitter truth until the world ends for all I care."

She stared at him in complete and utter disbelief.

"Speaking of blessed St. Albus, Renowned Defeater of Dark Wizards, Patron Saint of Noble Causes, I can not _**believe**_ that you told St. Dumbledore that you wanted to be there when Adrik's daughter entered Hogwarts. How sweet, you wished to personally _**THANK HIM**_ for everything he's done to help her and her family on that auspicious day! I don't remember you ever being such a cheeky monkey," Sasha gently chided. "When did that quiet and committed Russian Auror develop such sass? You're quite fortunate that the fickle goddess of irony didn't strike you dead."

"I've had a very bad influence in my life for the last thirty odd years. Even since I was nearly killed in an alleyway in Geneva, I'm afraid that I've turned to the dark side," she quipped. "Near death experience and all that, made me decide to stop being a proper lady and experience life to its fullest. That includes bating Albus Dumbledore, I'm afraid."

Instead of responding to her flippant comment with a dry quip, Sasha just shook his head.

"I cautioned you about me," Sasha seriously informed her. "I warned you to leave me before I completely corrupted everything that was good about you. Thirty years on the run with me, and what can I offer you? Can I give you the riches that you deserve? Have been I able to show you magical splendor that would steal your breath away? No, I can only offer you, _**Manchester**_, truly the arm pit of the universe. I wanted to be a healer; instead I'm a Blood Cursed mage, a destroyer, a slayer of souls."

"Yes, you're such a destroyer that you actually saved my life, Dami. Plus, I noticed that you rather happily binned that fragile boy and completely washed your hands of him," retorted Oxana. "Seems that someone hasn't completely shut off his human emotions in spite of his noisy claims otherwise."

Sasha grumbled and growled, which meant that she had scored.

Nadya was released from her cage, and she regally accepted part of Sasha's meal as a suitable, queenly repast. Only after Nadya was full, did Sasha eat his portion. They ate in silence as Sasha was intent on savoring the food of his homeland.

It was only after Sasha's third glass of wine that he finally spoke.

"When Adrik's fever peaks, he pleads with me not to hurt him. His terror overwhelms him, and what he plaintively offers to mitigate my supposedly wrath is rather… _**nauseating**_. I'm really _**not**_ into what he proposals. Perhaps, if the boy was in better shape and in his right mind, I might be a tad tempted, as I'm rather sophisticated in my interests and always interested in expanding my mental horizons," wryly commented the Bulgarian.

Oxana snorted her disbelief. "He's not your type, Sasha, as he's too emotionally fragile for a proper dalliance. You prefer the rare soul who is able to physically and mentally handle you."

The mage nodded his head, and began drinking his wine again.

"Do I really look like _**him**_?" Sasha softly questioned after he had drained the glass once more. "Last time I saw him he was ginger."

She gave him an appraising look, and then nodded her head.

"You've both got the long, white hair and the beard. His is straight, while you have those lovely curls. Thankfully, you've got a properly trimmed beard, while his has grown completely out of control. You're a little taller and more muscularly built than he is, plus you have _**much**_ better taste in clothes," she assured him. "There's something in your facial expressions that's the same."

"Arrogance? Self-superiority?" Sasha dryly questioned.

"That might be it," she softly agreed. It wasn't the truth, as she'd pin the similarity on other darker emotions, such as regret, sorrow and lamentation.

"Perhaps, I could cut my hair," helpfully offered Sasha.

She hissed her disapproval at that idea. Oxana rather fancied long haired wizards.

"Color it?" He quipped.

* * *

Filius and Minerva Floo called Albus and finally, when he answered their call, the Headmaster immediately requested that they come to his quarters.

"Actually, can you visit us?" Filius requested in an exhausted tone. "It's a long story, and I'm rather knackered."

Albus began talking the minute he exited the floo, sounding so much like a naughty school boy caught in mid-prank that Filius had to double-check that it was Albus Dumbledore standing there. Albus, ignoring Filius' close scrutiny, intently explained to Judge Minerva why he _**had**_ to go with Kingsley to locate Severus.

"Wait!" Minerva interrupted. "You're saying, Severus was in _**Drumcliffe**_? He ran from you?"

"Yes," Albus insisted. "Kingsley and I saw him. I _Petrificus Totalus'd _him…"

"That's bloody impossible, Albus," a fatigued Filius inserted. "That couldn't have been Severus as the boy's too depleted to run."

"You're right, it wasn't Severus," admitted Albus. "Why do you say he's too weak to run?"

"Minerva and I Located him using a Soul Search. He was deeply asleep as Severus is physically and magically knackered. I was able to open his eyes to See where he was. There was a mage treating Severus… he knew we were there, and he was most displeased with our arrival. For our troubles, he sent us on very roundabout Soulride back to Hogwarts."

"What else can you tell me? How is Severus? Our daughter?" Albus intently questioned. "Who was the wizard?"

"I couldn't sense your daughter, but we were barely in Severus before we were kicked out," Minerva stated. "He is a foreign mage, I think, as he was singing something. Filius? Do you remember it?"

"More sokol pie, voda na vardaro," sang Filius in a rather pleasant tenor. "Perhaps my pronunciation isn't correct, but that's what it sounded like, more sokol pie, voda na vardaro."

He wasn't singing it alone, as Albus had joined in. His voice was rough, not quite as smooth as Filius' trained tenor, but still the Headmaster sang.

"_More sokol pie voda na Vardaro. More sokol pie voda na Vardaro. Jane, Jane le belo grlo._

_Jane, Jane le belo grlo. More oj sokole, ti junachko pile, More ne vide li, junak da premine?"_

"I knew a Bulgarian mage that used to sing that song, but I haven't heard it in a very long time years," Albus admitted very softly. He sounded pained when he continued to question them about the mage. "What did this Bulgarian mage look like?"

"He had curly hair, green eyes," Filius stated. "I don't remember much more than that, as I only got the quickest glimpse before he sent us on our way."

"Minerva? Curly hair, green eyes?" Albus' voice was strained. "How _**old**_ would you say this mage was?"

"Yes, white, curly hair, long enough to wear it braided, and his eyes were green," Minerva agreed. "He also wore a neat beard. I don't know how old he was, but he seemed older than I am."

"My age? Could he be my age?" was Albus' next question. His voice, while soft, was quite intense.

"I'm not sure," Filius admitted. "I didn't see clearly through Severus' eyes. The wizard seemed... whimsical… as when he sent us back to Hogwarts, the mage did it in a roundabout way, letting us know that he had a great deal of power, but he had elected not to harm us. As much as it irks my pride to admit it, he judged us and dismissed us as being of no significance."

"It can't be. How could he have Severus?" Albus softly questioned. It was a rhetorical question as Albus did not wait for Filius or Minerva to venture a guess. "He's in _**Nurmengard**_! If he escaped, I would have been notified. But a Soulride? That damn song…"

"_**Gellert Grindelwald**_?" Minerva and Filius exclaimed in horrified unison. They glanced at each other, and then stared at the agitated Albus Dumbledore.

"I need to go to Nurmengard," Albus quickly decided. "It's imperative that I confirm who and what exactly is in their topmost cell."

"You can't go the Nurmengard without so much as a by your leave," angrily protested Filius. "You still haven't bloody told us what happened in bloody Drumcliffe!"

"It wasn't Severus," succinctly explained the Head Master.

"Yes, we bloody guessed _**THAT**_ part," sniped Filius. "Care to enlighten us _**further**_?"

"It was a Muggle who had been Polyjuiced into becoming a copy of Severus," Albus quickly explained. "I originally feared that Severus and the… our… daughter was meant to be a distraction to me, a way to keep my mind focused on them rather than what Voldemort is planning. With Severus' second disappearance, Voldemort has decided to use it to his advantage, as depositing Severus clones in various places will cause complete chaos and mass panic. The Muggle Authorities, the Aurors and the Orders will naturally spend a great deal of effort investigating each appearance."

"Just when the situation can't get much worse, a new twist is added," groaned Filius.

* * *

Sasha had skipped his afters, as he was busy reading _Hogwarts: A History _and cross referencing it as necessary with suitably caustic commentary from Oxana. His partner was reading _The Muggles Parents' Unofficial Guide to a Magical Education: Everything You Need to Know about Hogwarts but Don't Know Enough to Ask (What Dumbledore Doesn't Want You to Know). _It had been printed by the Quibbler Press.Oxana was often laughing at some of the wilder proclamations, such as the very idea that a great big bloody _**basilisk**_ had been running amuck in the pipes of Hogwarts with no one being the wiser, but she knew there was some truth behind the mad ramblings.

The Quibbler had announced that Damyan still lived after all. They just had him serving drinks in the wrong bar.

The problem was….finding the nuggets of truth amid all the bloody garbage.

"Our boy's mentioned in here," Oxana announced to her lover. "He's in the Faculty Picture of Hogwarts."

"Really? He's a Faculty member? What does he teach? Potions?"

"Taught Potions for many years, and then was recently assigned this school year to instruct 'Defence Against the Dark Arts'," Oxana stated. "Oh, this is priceless; the Defence position is rumored to be hexed, as for the last forty odd years no one has ever come back for a second year. One was a werewolf, another one was a mad Auror brought out of retirement for a year who was actually a Polyjuiced Death Eater who was impersonating the Auror who he had locked in a trunk, several have disappeared right before final exams, one got viciously disemboweled by a Hinkypunk in front of his class…Our stray is apparently quite the Potions Master, as he has patented at least three dozen potions, plus he has created six Charms that were added to the current curriculum at Hogwarts. "

Sasha put down his book, and walked over to Oxana's chair, before he began peering at the picture.

"How would you like to learn how to fly, love?" Sasha questioned. He then softly laughed. "Don't look at me like that. Adrik informed me that he could teach me how to fly, Oxana, in exchange for medical care. Maybe the boy wasn't joshing me. It could be beneficial to keep him around after the babe is born as he could be quite financially productive. Now which one is Minerva? Any idea which one could be the mixed breed?"

"Minerva is standing in the back row, next to our little stray. On her right, is the Blessed Savior of Humanity aka the Clueless Wonder that Didn't Realize That There Was a Great, Big, Bloody Basilisk in his Bloody Plumbing, and I believe that Filius Flitwick is the mixed breed mage. He's sitting on the couch next to that woman with the short, wild hair who possesses what can only be kindly described as a hawk nose."

"Flitwick…? I know that name…. _**Filus Flitwick!**_… He's a former Dueling Champion before they outlawed it as too many reckless purebloods were getting their privates hexed and otherwise mutilated, making them unable to produce more little purebloods. He had an impossible strike zone," Sasha loudly exclaimed. "It was also rumored that he was a rather chivalrous fighter plus supposedly he never cheated in his duels. I would have been more respectful if I had known it was him in the boy. Mark my words; I'll probably rue the fact that I sent them back on their way instead of killing them both."

He stared at the photo of the Hogwarts Faculty staff for some time, earning a haughty look or three from the various professors who didn't appreciate his keen interest.

"Flitwick and McGonagall, that's whom I banished from the boy," Sasha decided. "Damn it, I wish I had known it was her. He trusts her… yet… he doesn't. I would have liked to make my own impression of her. They both were involved with the creation of Adrik's remarkable magical wand, so the question is, did they do it to help the boy? Or did Dumbledore request their assistance? Do they hold the boy's wellbeing as more important than Albus' vested interest?"

Sasha rubbed his aching temples before he sighed.

"Be back, he's slipping into a nightmare," he stated. He jogged up the steps to his bedroom, and Sasha having vacated his seat, Grisha immediately jumped into his chair to enjoy the warm cushion. Nadya, taking her role as Sasha's familiar very seriously, meandered after Sasha.

* * *

_He was in the Headmaster's office, pacing back and forth, so unbelievably furious with the old man. Sirius Black, murderer of Lily Potter, had literally flown from Hogwarts as it was the only way he could have escaped from Flitwick's locked chambers. Severus knew, knew with a fiery, blazing certainty that Harry Potter was to blame and that damnable Headmaster had assisted the escape. There were times when he truly loathed Albus Dumbledore. _

_Naturally, his irritation was noticed by the Headmaster, and unlike Sirius Black, he was not permitted any leniency. Instead, the Headmaster forced an unholy rapport onto him, and Severus was powerless to resist. _

_Severus was bleeding and torn when the savage Dumbledore had finished ravaging him, and only through sheer force of will was Severus able to keep his composure. Like hell would he have ever wilingly let the Headmaster know that Severus had once craved such intimacy, but somehow, Albus had guessed the awful truth. But in Severus' foolish naivety, he had believed the Headmaster would be a compassionate, gentle lover. As with all his silly daydreams, the reality was far worse than his darkest nightmare as Dumbledore used sex as a punishment to keep a crushed Severus in his place. There was no compassion in Albus Dumbledore; it was just a façade to hide the devil beneath. _

"_Severus, please, I truly detest when you pout," mocked the Headmaster. "You're my little, dirty Slytherin whore, Severus. You willingly come back for more, and you know that you enjoy it. You adequately warmed my bed when you were a student, and now that you're a Professor, nothing's changed. Sadly, washing your hair is still quite beyond your ability."_

"_No, you're not him," Severus vainly protested, as he knew this dream wasn't reality. "You're not. I know you're not. You're LeStrange. You're __**roleplaying**__… I know you are…__**NOT him**__. You're doing this because the Dark Lord wishes you to do so."_

_In his mind, he had accepted that this incident hadn't occurred like this, but his heart… his heart unreservedly believed otherwise, and that's why he was trapped in his nightmare._

"_I know you're not Albus. Albus wouldn't do anything like this, as Albus Dumbledore is just so bloody wonderful that he shits bricks of platinum and pees a stream of liquid gold," sarcastically mimicked Albus. "You're so damn pathetic, Severus. You're a greasy, pitiable excuse for a whore. Blaming the Dark Lord for me not treating you nicely? Truth be told, I'm rather tired of you, your limp technique and your constant sniveling, but it amuses me how you put me on a pedestal. Fortunately, Remus Lupin is available if I need a young man to squire me around to various functions. He's a very pretty boy, even with his scars."_

"_Remus?" Severus tremulously whispered. _

"_Yes, Remus." Albus gleefully agreed. "Sweet boy and even sweeter kisses. Plus he fills my bed so nicely."_

_It was the ultimate betrayal for Severus Snape.  
_

"_I warned you about him. Need I remind you that he nearly killed your precious Golden Trio tonight," Severus shrilly reminded the Headmaster. "He's attempted to kill me twice!"_

_"Too bad, so sad," Albus mimicked his shrill tones. "You'll keep your mouth shut about what happened out there tonight, or else I will be displeased. Do you want me displeased with you, Severus?"_

_Severus backed away from the unconcealed threat in Albus' blue eyes. He put his hand over his distended belly, knowing that he had to protect his Ariana from the blue eyed devil that had sired her._

_"No, please," Severus whispered. "You know that I'll obey, Headmaster. But he would have killed me tonight… and our child isn't viable yet."_

_He earned a hard blow on his right cheek from Albus for his feeble protest. Albus' thumb had struck his nose, so there was a slight trickle of blood from his nostril._

_"You're supposed to keep her safe, Severus. Don't look for trouble, fool. Do I need to confine you to your quarters?" Albus raged. "You promised that you'd behave, that you'd keep her safe, Severus. It's obvious to me that I love her far more than you do as I never would have put her in harm's way."_

_Severus wept then, as he knew Dumbledore was correct. He had nearly killed Ari in his jealousy over Remus. To his surprise, Albus cuddled him and gently stroked his limp, greasy hair.  
_

"_I have to be strict with you in order to protect you from yourself, Severus. If you only weren't so horrid and reckless, we could have a proper relationship. You just have to try harder to control your base, vile nature, Severus. If you were only a better person, we wouldn't have to keep our relationship secret. I know you want me to take our relationship public," Albus softly whispered. "I'd be proud to let everyone know we were lovers… if only you were capable of proper behavior. But you possess no couth, Severus, you're nothing but an embarrassment to me. It's not a question of __**if **__you'll embarrass me, but only a matter of __**when**__."_

"_I'll try harder, I swear, I swear," Severus insisted._

_"You always make such sweet promises, Severus, and you never manage to keep them," Albus reminded him. "I see such things in your lovely dark eyes, Severus. Do you know what I see now? You're thinking of fleeing, Severus. You run, have no doubts about it, I will find you, and when I do find you, I will make you regret running away." _

"_I'd never run," Severus assured Albus. "I promised you that I wouldn't run."_

_"Liar," Albus spat. "Just remember, I will be furious if you flee, and when I locate you, I will severely punish you. But… I comprehend how much you love being reprimanded, so I will need to give you a suitable punishment. Perhaps Remus Lupin would like to help me raise Ari. I'd rather have a Gryffindor werewolf nurture my daughter than a greasy Slytherin."_

_Dumbledore then angelically smiled, and Severus knew that Albus had already intricately planned on how to replace him __**completely**__ with Remus Lupin. Not only just in Albus' bed, **but in Ari's life. **His daughter would be raised by a** flea-bitten werewolf.** _

"_Remus?" Severus screamed. "He's a __**werewolf**__! You can't trust our daughter with that rabid __**werewolf**__!"_

"Easy, there's no werewolf here," softly stated Sasha. "I need you to wake."

Hesitantly, Snape opened his eyes, and Sasha gently brushed Severus' forehead with his hand. The wizard looked concerned.

"You shouldn't be dreaming," Sasha softly confessed. "You do not possess a fever which might explain your dreams. I fear that perhaps there is a great deal unsaid between us. You haven't told me everything and I have not asked the correct questions. As your personal Healer, I will require the truth in order to treat you."

Severus swallowed once and attempted to find his shattered courage so he could calmly speak of what horrors he had endured. He would have to compartmentalize what had happened, so he'd be able to speak with a suitable detachment. Pitifully sobbing in front of the infamous Bulgarian Dragon would be… mortifying.

"Not tonight," Sasha quietly assured him. "You're quite exhausted, and I fear that the telling of your misadventures will be taxing. Let's try something else. Take my hand, Adrik."

Hesitantly, Severus took the wizard's callused hand. The Dark Wizard gently closed his hand over Severus' hand.

"Just to let you know that I'm here," Sasha explained. "Adrik, please take a deep breath and as you exhale, close your eyes and begin to feel yourself relax. Now, take another deep breath… you're surrounded by a white, warm light. You're safe and protected. No one will be able to hurt you as the white, warm light will protect you."

"I'd rather have you and your wand protecting me," snarked Severus. "Least then the two of us have a fighting chance."

"Adrik, do what I say, please, as this mental exercise should help ease your emotional stress and promote the healing of your physical trauma," Sasha said in a very mild tone. "Take a deep breath, exhale…"

Sasha sounded so much like Dumbledore that Severus instinctively took a deep breath. When the Headmaster spoke in that tone, it meant that he was quite displeased with Severus' intractability and that Severus needed to shape up immediately.

As directed, Severus inhaled, exhaled, tensed and relaxed assorted muscles, and then when Sasha counted up to ten, Severus imagined that he was in a safe spot where he had been happy.

He wasn't surprised when he realized where exactly his mental happy spot was. It was the park where he had first watched Lily and her sister play. Once more, he was in his hiding spot from which he could safely watch the happy families and enviously pretend that he belonged to one of them.

He knew he should push such thoughts from his mind; he was suppose to relax, completely empty any and all thoughts from his minds. His splendid attempts failed as he kept getting distracted.

The park was empty except for one little girl. She had wild, uncontrollable ringlets of glossy black hair. She jumped with wild abandonment, she gleefully skipped and then she ran to the slide and there was no doubt she was a Gryffindor as she recklessly slid down headfirst. Then the girl saw him. Her dark eyes widened in delight and with a loud shriek of joy, she ran towards him, her arms opened wide.

"Play with me, Papa!" The little girl implored.

The child latched onto his right hand and began to pull him upright. Severus could hear Sasha's melodious voice softly in the background, reciting some positive thought that would supposedly help suture the gaping wounds in Severus' battered soul. But truthfully, Severus wasn't paying the slightest attention, as he was with Ari.

"Push me on the swing! I can go so much higher when you push me!" She regally commanded. Then for good measure, Ari added a heartfelt, "Pleeeeeease, Papa?"

"When could I refuse you anything, Ari?" Severus softly stated.

Especially as Ariana had the Headmaster's smile and the damn twinkle in her dark eyes. Thank Merlin, Ariana's nose was absolutely properly shaped. It was not a beak like his, and it was perfectly straight, unlike the Headmaster's crooked, meandering nose. Her ringlets were the Headmaster's curls and there was no doubt in Severus' heartbroken mind that she was a _**Gryffindor**_.

Ari hugged him then, and he was emotionally overwhelmed by her empathy. Perhaps Ari was a bit like Lily had been, willing to tolerate a greasy Slytherin as long as he toed the line. This time, Severus swore, he wouldn't screw it up by being a bloody arse and he'd treasure every stolen moment. In the background, he could hear Sasha counting backwards to one in order to bring him out of the hypnosis state, but Severus steadfastly refused to leave his happy spot.

"Want to stay here," he plaintively protested.

So he did, and after the seemingly inexhaustible Ari thankfully grew tired, they sat underneath a tree. She climbed into his lap and he put his arm around her. The sky was blue, the grass was green and there was the slightest amount of wind to prevent the day from being too hot.

But some higher power decided to make it even better for Severus.

"Love you, Papa," his daughter whispered as she snuggled closer to him. Ari was in next to no time asleep, and Severus struggled to keep his eyes awake. Sasha was still talking to him, attempting to guide him into a deep, restful sleep, but Severus mightily struggled. He didn't want to waste a single, precious moment.

This wasn't reality, Severus knew and accepted that fact, but didn't he deserve some joy? He wouldn't live to see this, so why couldn't he imagine such happiness? His mind was full of horror, of events that had never occurred, so why couldn't he have this false, happy memory to balance that evil?

His eyes grew heavy… and then he knew no more.

* * *

"You're going to _**Nurmengard**_?" Minerva repeated in Albus' quarters. When Albus had left Filius' chambers, she had followed him so they could continue their soon to be rather heated discussion without any witnesses. Minerva was dumbfounded as she couldn't believe that she had heard Dumbledore correctly. For good measure, she repeated herself. "_**NURMENGARD?**_"

"Yes," Albus succinctly stated. "I need to confirm that someone's still there. I spoke to the guards, and they expect me in thirty minutes."

"_**Gellert**_? You believe that _**Gellert**_ has _**Severus**_? Just because a wizard hums a Bulgarian folk song doesn't mean that he's _**Gellert**_," Minerva tersely reminded him. "Aren't you jumping to spurious conclusions?"

"Curly hair, green eyes, a powerful, whimsical wizard possibly about my age and that particular song makes it a very strong chance that it's Gellert," Albus tersely explained. "Soulriding is also a trick of his. Do you wish to go with me?"

"To confirm that it's him?" The witch tartly questioned. "Or to confirm that the mage is someone that looks like him, or possibly even Gellert with a Glamour?"

Albus held out his hand and spoke, "No, to reassure yourself that I've not gone completely barmy."

"It's a little too late for that," she quipped. Truly, she meant it as a joke, but Albus lost his smile, and he dropped his hand.

"Very well, I'll be off then," Albus softly whispered.

Hesitantly, she put her hand on his. "I'll go with you, Albus."

* * *

They landed in front of a dark, unwelcoming fortress. The jail towered over the landscape and it was jet black and forbidding. Minerva was a brave soul, descendant of many brave Scottish warriors, but still she lost her formidable courage, staring at the desolate prison.

She couldn't help but look at the entranceway, and she silently thought, "For the Greater Good".

This entire mess with Severus could be satisfactorily summed up with those four words. Everyone had thought that they had known best for Severus, and _**look**_ at the damage that had caused.

Two guards met them at the entryway, and Minerva was astonished that the dark, heavy door opened with not even the slightest groan of protest.

"Zdraveite Gospodin Dumbledore! Kak si?" The stockier of the two guards spoke at length with Albus in Bulgarian, and then he questioningly glanced at Minerva.

"Gospozha McGonagall ne govorya Balgarski," Albus stated. "Govorite li Angliiski?"

"Radko," he stated. He made a gesture and Albus agreed with a soft, "Da."

"Radko speaks English fluently, so they're getting him, as I just told Yordan that you don't speak Bulgarian," Albus softly explained to Minerva. "Yordan's English is about as bad as my Bulgarian. It'll take a few minutes, so you can take a seat."

The rather oppressive atmosphere of the jail made her uncomfortable so she refused to sit. Instead, she walked toward a small room and examined the photograph on the wall. It was an early black and white photograph as the figures moved only slightly.

"Toma Filipov and Sofia Filipova who were brother and sister, Lazar Mikhailov, Penko Nanov, Damyan Draganov, Ivanka Petrova, Nevana Stambolieva, Rada Dafovska, Snezhana Ignatieva and Gellert," Albus whispered. "This is the Hall of Remembrance. The builders of the memorial demanded that a picture of Gellert and his various lieutenants was placed here as a reminder to all that evil can wear many faces, both pretty and the not-so-pretty. Gellert demanded perfection in his lieutenants, that they be physically attractive and mentally astute. Voldemort seems to prefer his followers otherwise."

Minerva looked at each figure in turn, and for some reason, her eyes lingered on Damyan Draganov. The tall Dark Wizard had curly dark hair and rather striking good looks. He possessed a hooked, patrician nose to match Severus Snape's beak and he had a rather pronounced chin. But it was Damyan's eyes, his light colored eyes, which haunted Minerva. The vast majority of Gellert's followers appeared to be a merry bunch, but Draganov's eyes didn't match the beaming grin on his face.

His eyes were full of profound misery. Whatever the reason he had joined Gellert's Brotherhood, the bloom had long since faded from that particular rose, and he intensely regretted it. His eyes were exact twins of Severus' dark eyes after Severus returned from a Summoning from He Who Must Not Be Named.

With that, the lightbulb went on in Minerva' head. She peered at Damyan, attempting to add fifty years, two feet of white, curly hair and a neatly trimmed beard.

It could be.

Yes, he very well could be the mage that was helping Severus.

_**Oh, bloody hell Severus, I hope that I'm mistaken. Why would that terrible bastard be assisting you, unless he's in league with He Who Must Not Be Named?**_

"Do you know what the current statuses of these people are?" Minerva softly questioned.

"They're dead except for Gellert," Albus tersely stated. "He's the only one that still lives of his blessed Magical Brotherhood."

"Damyan Draganov?" Minerva intently questioned.

"Dead in Prague," Albus easily assured her. "The Czech Aurors got him in 1958. It took two dozen of their Aurors to successfully contain him. Heavy casualties, six dead, eight fully disabled and the majority of the rest were declared mentally and psychologically unfit to return to duty."

"I thought you said that the Russians believed otherwise," Minerva prompted.

"One was discharged from the Czech Auror Department on the grounds of mental instability as she insisted that the body wasn't Draganov. They tested it, and the results conclusively proved that the body was Draganov, but her ramblings had managed to convince the Russians that they needed to further investigate. That's why that Russian Auror was killed in Geneva as she was sent out in the world looking for Draganov _without_ a backup. I do believe that he's dead and the world is better for it. That monster was trained as a _**Healer**_."

"A Healer?" Minerva weakly questioned.

_**Oh, my dear bonnie boy, what have I done? Dear, sweet Danu, please let me be wrong.**_

"Yes, but he broke every standard and every oath long before he joined Gellert. The proud lineage of Bulgarian Draganovs has a Blood Curse that has been passed down through countless generations. They're Berserkers, and he killed his wife and unborn child, plus an innocent Muggle bystander in an uncontrollable fit of rage. The Bulgarian Aurors, naturally, attempted to contain him, and the Dragon massacred them all. Terrible, terrible monster. He was only captured as he was utterly spent when his wrath faded, and without delay, Draganov was immediately sentenced to death. The Bulgarians didn't give him a trial as he was utterly mad and he was the only living witness to his atrocities. The day before his scheduled execution, Gellert and his followers broke him out of the prison," Albus stated. "He quickly became a favorite of Gellert. I believe that he and Gellert were lovers for a time."

Albus nodded his head once, before continuing, "Though it was interesting, as Draganov was there when I fought Gellert. Draganov had the utmost contempt for me, and he let me know it. The others, they hated me for standing against their grand ambition, but the Dragon _**despised**_ me."

"I wouldn't expect him to welcome you with open arms," Minerva quipped. "Perhaps he was jealous of your previous relationship with Gellert."

"No, it wasn't that. The others… their hatred was … cold, impersonal… but for him, it was… _personal_. I never had any understanding why…" Albus admitted. "He wasn't jealous, as his hatred was based on a far greater emotion rather than mere petty jealousy."

For a moment, Minerva wondered if she should mention her suspicions to Albus. She looked at Albus closely, debating how he would react to her belief that the mage handling Severus was an allegedly deceased Dark Mage who hated Albus. Oh, and the allegedly deceased mage was a Berserking Madman who had killed his wife and child, plus the entire Bulgarian Auror Department, most of the Czech Auror Department and should she mention that he was a former lover of Gellert's? Plus, the mage had immediately suspected Albus when he realized that someone was Possessing Severus.

Albus wouldn't handle it well, she decided. This spur of the moment trip to Gellert's prison cell in the middle of the Bulgarian night meant that a very guilty Albus was making rash, impetuous decisions. Previous injudicious, ill-advised, unilateral decisions by Albus had caused the panicked, paranoid Severus to take flight. How would the damaged Severus react if Albus found him now? Would it be better for Severus to allow Severus his freedom? Would freedom from Albus' constant surveillance mend him? Or would he take that as further proof of his abandonment by Albus?

Plus, could she honestly state with any conviction that it had been Damyan Draganov that she had seen? Merlin's wand, she didn't even know if Draganov had green eyes. Did she really wish to assist Albus exhume Draganov's grave tonight? The way a fey Albus was acting, he'd probably break a few rules and resurrect Draganov just to confirm the mage's death.

Hadn't her assessment of what Severus had supposedly needed help cock up everything? Shouldn't the dead be allowed to stay dead?

Shouldn't Severus be allowed for once to make his own decisions, for better or for worse, free from meddling souls who wrongly believed that they knew best?

No, it was time to keep her mouth shut, research Draganov further and get Filius involved. If Filius agreed on her hypothesis, then they'd mention it to Albus.

Or perhaps, not.

* * *

Gellert Grindelwald was informed that he was having a visitor.

Oh, an official visitor, one should quickly add. He often had assorted, unauthorized visitors of which his guards were never the wiser. His Brotherhood was still loyal, and they would visit or send him mail. In fact, he had just finished the last of Snezhana's contraband care packages. But an authorized visitor was rare, and he had been specifically ordered to wear a clean robe and comb his hair.

How droll, as he kept his hair neat and Gellert prided himself on always being presentable. Yes, he was incarcerated and wandless, despised and denigrated, but damn it, he still had his pride.

"Behave yourself," growled one of the younger guards. "Or I'll make you."

"Feeling powerful, aren't you? Aren't you the brave one? Do you feel safe that you can threaten me when I'm defenseless," Gellert retorted.

"Well, you don't need to threaten our honored guest," stated Asen, who was the senior guard in the room. "Our visitor can handle him quite nicely. In fact, Gospodin Grindelwald, you're being allowed the chance to talk with a very old friend, and we won't be here to watch you. He's requesting complete privacy for your conversation. The Administrator agreed to his request."

Gellert smiled, attempting to appear in complete control on the situation, but he would admit to himself that he was uneasy that his guards were being dispatched elsewhere.

"Very well, he'll be in here in just a moment. He's brought a friend with him, so please be a proper gentleman now, Gospodin Grindelwald," Asen requested.

"Yes, Gospodin Peychinovich," Gellert assured the sentinel. Of all his guards, Asen Peychinovich was the lone sentry who treated Gellert like he was human. He never slopped Gellert's food on the floor nor knocked over his water with a negligent kick.

Some wizards in Gellert's position might be angered; the very thought was repugnant, of being reduced to such a state that such common courtesies were rarities. But Gellert had reached for the stars, and having failed to catch so much as a firefly in his noble endeavor, he took his punishment as his due.

Yes, possibly, he had learned humility in his endless confinement. Why else had he refused Snezhana's pleas to help him escape? Perhaps it was loyalty to his fellow Mages that had him refuse Snezhana's assistance. The ones that had escaped didn't deserve to be locked in a cold prison cell. They were steadfast, and such loyalty must be reciprocated.

He stood like a man, much like the feared wizard he had once been, waiting for his visitor. No doubt, his unforeseen and unexpected visitor expected Gellert Grindelwald to be a mewling wreck of a man. No, Gellert Grindelwald, while having learned temperance and compassion during his incarceration, still had his pride.

Or so he thought, until two people walked into his cell. He only had eyes for one, an older wizard with long white hair and a matching white beard.

He knew that mage quite well, for the wizard had filled his dreams and nightmares for near a century.

"_**Albus**_?" Gellert whispered.

* * *

A/N # 2 - apologies to any Manchester-ites.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

* * *

"Albus?" Gellert Grindelwald whispered. He plainly disbelieved that it was truly Albus Dumbledore gracing his cell in the middle of the Bulgarian night.

Minerva thoroughly examined the dark wizard known as Gellert Grindlewald, half fearing, half hoping that he had been the green eyed mage that had been caring for Severus. While the outward appearances of the two mages weren't the same, Gellert could have easily Polyjuiced into another mage.

Albus said not a word in response; instead, he put his wand firmly against Gellert's jugular. The message sent loud and clear that this wasn't just a friendly visit, Albus decided that there was still some doubt in Gellert's mind, and subsequently the mage whispered a soft spell. A very uneasy Minerva simply couldn't believe what she had heard.

Albus… no… Albus hadn't just _Imperio'd _Gellert.

"You will tell me the truth," Albus commanded in a voice that brooked no disagreement. "Have you left this jail since you were supposedly incarcerated?"

"Yes," Gellert easily admitted. The wand against his throat was then pressed harder in response, indenting his jugular, and yet Gellert merely smiled in response to Albus' increasing threat.

"Explain exactly where did you go?" growled Albus in a very dangerous tone.

"My physical body stayed here, while my soul soared in the sky with the eagles. I refuse to limit myself to my physical kingdom," Gellert glibly assured Albus. "How's my old wand treating you? Responsive to your every desire? Careful, love, it's very fickle, Albus, and it most assuredly possesses a mind of its own. By the way, whoever is that lovely woman watching us? Old friend, she doesn't seem to enjoy this side of you. But then again, I had the unique talent for bringing out the very worst in Albus. Isn't that right, love?"

"You will not ask me any questions, Gellert. You will only answer my questions," brusquely ordered Albus.

Albus asked Gellert assorted questions and the Dark Wizard answered truthfully though a trifle too smoothly. Gellert was excessively glib for a concerned Minerva's taste, as he effortlessly evaded answering Albus' questions with anything close to a definitive answer. For the moment, Albus was too emotional over Severus' latest disappearance to realize how Gellert was deliberately goading him by reminding Albus of their checkered past. When Albus calmed down, he would be dismayed and furious that he had allowed Gellert to play him like a fiddle.

"Are you in contact with any of your former followers?" Albus intently questioned.

"All my posts are thoroughly examined before I see them, so you should ask my guards. I am convinced that there is much correspondence that I do not ever receive. I recommend Gospodin Peychinovich as I find him most cordial among the guards," cheerily assured an exceedingly helpful Gellert. "Old friend, could you possibly ease up on the pressure on my jugular? I'm beginning to feel ever so slightly dizzy and it would be most distressing to faint in front of Gospozha McGonagall…plus, unconscious, I would be then unable to answer your questions."

_He knew her name!__And the bloody bastard bestowed a gleeful smile on her like she should be honored... HONORED… by his attention! What the hell did he think she was? A lightskirt?  
__**  
**_The sparring continued for some time, until Albus removed his wand from Gellert's neck.

"We can go," he imperiously announced to Minerva. "I have my answers."

Gellert flashed another winning smile at her, and nodded his head once.

"Gospozha McGonagall, I appreciate your patience watching such dear old friends meet for the first time in over fifty years. Do you desire to ask me anything? I can certainly spare time from my busy schedule of answering fan mail from my adoring public to answer three questions. For such a pretty woman, sympathetic enough to visit a broken, despised man like me, it's the very least I could do."

Gellert was mocking Albus, and to her surprise, Minerva's subconscious decided that yes, it had several questions.

"Yes, I have three questions to ask you. Albus? If you don't mind, I'd prefer to do this in private," Minerva requested. "I can assure you that I can handle him, Albus."

* * *

Albus finally left her alone with Gellert after he had provided her with numerous, unnecessary and completely unsolicited warnings about how dangerous Gellert Grindelwad truly was. Minerva gifted the Dark Wizard with her patented "_Minerva McGonagall Look that Terrorized the Marauders into Behaving… Well… for a Short Time at Least_". And yes, to Minerva's delight, _The Look_ worked on Gellert also.

Boys will be boys, whether they were Marauders or Egomaniac, Dark Wizards intent on world wide domination.

"Sit," she commanded. "Understand one thing, Grindlewald, unlike Albus, I will not stay my wand. I demand _**true**_ answers to my questions."

"Very well, Gospozha McGonagall, ask away." Gellert assured her in a very reasonable tone. "As you can see, I have nothing better to do."

Minerva paused, collected her thoughts and then swiftly pounced on her prey, "Does Damyan Draganov still live?"

"Dami? You desire to know if dear, sweet Dami still lives? Is that why Albus came all this way?" Gellert questioned, his green eyes narrowing. "Has some havoc occurred in the outside world for which Dami and I are being credited? Do tell me _**everything**_, Gospozha McGongall. What have I done _**now**_? Fire? Pestilence? _**Death**_?"

He grinned in unholy delight and Minerva's blood ran cold at his glee.

"Albus and I are here for the same reason, to question you, but do not be fooled into thinking that the information we require is the same," retorted Minerva. "If Albus wanted you to know the reason why he was questioning you, he would have told you. Since he didn't, I won't divulge it."

Her brusque tone made Gellert nod his head once and softly laugh.

"Albus has you entirely too well trained. Very well, Damyan died during the battle where I was captured. That's what all the history books say," Gellert easily admitted. "I was too busy with other, more pressing matters to pay much heed to his demise. True shame though, as Damyan was a true zealot. He had no fear of death; in fact, I think he greatly desired it… which might explain why he supposedly also died in 1958 in lovely Prague after he allegedly died in 1949 in Minsk. One death wouldn't satisfy that man's unholy lust for death, perhaps two or three might. Why this unexpected interest in my sad, green eyed Dami?"

_Green eyed? Calm down, Min, there are plenty of green eyed mages out there!_

"I'm writing a book about the deluded fools that followed you as the new Magical Messiah, and there's not much known about him," Minerva retorted. "Toma, Lazar, Sofia… and all the rest of your followers have numerous books written on them but the Bulgarian Dragon hasn't rated a single tome. I decided to corner the market on him, and retire on the proceeds to a nice chateau in France."

Gellert's green eyes narrowed and he leaned in a conspiratorially fashion towards her.

"You're _**lying**_ to me, Gospozha McGonagall," Gellert whispered in an admiring tone. "You're quite the challenge, aren't you? You must drive Albus absolutely barmy as you refuse to willingly roll over and do everything he wants. No, you question him, insist that he behaves, quibble about semantics and no doubt you demand that he keeps his sizable ego in check. Oh, how Albus truly needs someone like you, Gospozha."

"And you're not answering my question." Minerva's voice cracked like a whip. "Is Damyan Draganov dead?"

"Damyan Draganov died when his wife and unborn child were murdered by that Muggle. The physical body lived on, but his soul was dead. Yes, I know what the Bulgarians Authority claim, but it is not a well publicized fact that they utterly botched the investigation in a vain attempt at promoting their stellar reputation. The Bulgarian Ministry was proud, too proud, that they stood firm against the encroaching Darkness. They _**attacked**_ a grieving, mentally unbalanced wizard who had executed his wife's murderer. It was a cut and dry case, they couldn't be bothered to actually _**investigate**_ the situation, and look what it got them. A terminal case of Dead for the entire Bulgarian Department of Aurors. The Ministry decided it was best to promptly execute Damyan before the truth of their gross incompetence came to light. He had no trial, was given no chance to defend himself… just to keep the Bulgarian Ministry's reputation intact. I do hope that you mention that scandalous tidbit in your book."

Gellert softly laughed.

"I thought he would be a fine, motivated addition to my Brotherhood, and we broke him out of his jail cell. But he was never quite completely sane after that traumatic experience. Some court love, Damyan courted death. His deepest yearning? He desired nothing more than to die and to take as many people as possible with him. If anything, his death wish only strengthened over time, so if my fey Dami didn't die at the battle and he somehow escaped Minsk and Prague, I do not doubt that he has long since found the demise he so craved. One more question, Gospozha McGonagall."

For a moment, she was about to protest and shout "What? I haven't asked a second question", but she realized that the whimsical Gellert would count that as her third and final question. What a bloody, charming, erudite _**bastard**_ he was. No wonder why Albus had deeply loved him before he realized how tainted Gellert's soul truly was.

"Tell me all there is to know about Damyan," she requested. "For my book, you understand. Answer truthfully, and I'll think pleasant thoughts of you when I stroll through my vineyards."

Gellert nodded his head once in appreciative acknowledgement that she hadn't squandered her final question on futilely protesting his whimsy.

"He was highly educated, and had blue blood running in his veins. A true connoisseur of good wine but Damyan never drank to excess. He listened to music and voraciously devoured books. Dami was partial to Bulgarian Osetra Caviar, and I would treat him with it. There was no warmth, no tenderness, no love in Dami for as I said, his soul died with his wife and child. As for his magical strength? Formidable but nowhere near to my level or yours, my dear. However, when he unleashed the Dragon, the very heavens would shake on their foundations, as he turned into a literal insane maelstrom of uncontrollable fury. He kept himself aloof because of his real fear of unleashing the Draganov Blood Curse if he lost his temper."

Gellert smiled a beatific smile, before he confessed, "In battle, Dami was… _**magnificent**_. If I had only a few more mages like him; I doubt that I would be here and the world would so different, so much safer for our kind."

_Why would such a monster be helping Severus? _

Minerva struggled to keep her composure free of her concern, yet Gellert noted her unease and decided to pounce.

"For your book, you might need to edit this for your British sensibilities. As a lover, I found him most extraordinary, as he was charming and considerate but never clinging. He never demanded anything from me. So many of my lovers were overly possessive and jealous that I found sweet Dami to be a delightful change."

The sly look Gellert gave her plainly implied that Albus had been one such demanding, possessive lover. That tidbit was entirely Too Much Information for Minerva.

"I'm sure my readers will be delighted to know that. Anything else you'd care to add?" Minerva asked after Gellert paused.

"That's four questions, Gospozha McGonagall, but since I am in such a jolly mood as I've seen my dear Albus for the first time in many years, I will give you the fourth answer," Gellert assured her. "Freely and with no strings attached. I don't really care why you're truly so interested in Dami, Gospozha, but as far as I know, Damyan Draganov is dead. But for what it's worth for your tell-all tome, Damyan consumed medical journals by the score. Be they magical or Muggle, no matter what language the journals were in, he always desired to know the latest research. Secretly, I believe there was a small part of Dami that desperately wanted nothing more than to be a simple Healer-Surgeon in Bulgaria with a wife, a child and a crup."

And Gellert would answer no more.

_Merlin's beard braided and gaily beribboned, could that be the reason why Damyan is helping Severus? Because he wants to claim the child of a man he despises as his own? Does he look upon it as the chance to raise the child that was taken from him by murder?_

* * *

"What questions did you ask Gellert?" Albus questioned once they were safely back in his quarters at Hogwarts.

"The same," Minerva stated, her conscience nagging her that she wasn't being completely truthful. "You're quite upset about Severus and he knew you well enough to manipulate you. I thought if I asked the same questions, there was a possibility that he would answer them differently."

Albus grumbled slightly though he knew it was true.

"I don't believe your green eyed mage was Gellert," Albus confessed. "He hasn't left Nurmengard since his trial. The wards set upon his cell haven't been disturbed in fifty years."

"I concur," Minerva agreed.

"But please, tell me what you asked and how he answered, it might be important," Albus insisted. "Please, Minerva. It might jar my mind into new directions. It's vital that we find Severus."

It was quite late in the Scottish night, and an exhausted Albus looked like he had been on a no expense spared, guided tour through the various levels of hell. His blue eyes were red-rimmed and there were new bags under the bags of his eyes. In addition, he had nearly stumbled in his tiredness on the walk back from their Apparation Point to Hogwarts. He had boldly lied to her, dismissing his near fall as merely a trip over a stone, but Minerva knew better. A holiday jaunt was one thing, but Albus had Disapparated from Hogwarts to Nurmengard and back again with her after a rather full day of chasing down a faux Severus. He was on the last dregs of his energy and was thisclose to physically collapsing.

"Tomorrow, I've got a frightful headache and it's quite late," Minerva sincerely pleaded. It was the truth, and yet not the complete truth, as she had often muddled through one of her headaches when there was work to be done. "You truly need to get some sleep, Albus. You're running yourself ragged, and it's exactly what You Know Who wants."

"Maybe a glass of wine before I go to bed will help my slumber," Albus decided before politely adding, "Will you stay and have a glass with me? I hate to drink alone, though I understand that you may wish to go directly to bed."

It was readily apparent to Minerva that Dumbledore didn't want her to stay, instead he wanted to brood on the current situation in complete solitude. Therefore, Minerva decided that she'd partake in some wine.

"I'll pour," Minerva offered, before pointedly adding, "Fawkes is in the need of some attention, I believe."

"Yes, considering how badly I bodged up everything with Severus, I should attempt to keep on Fawkes' good side. You and Filius are both rightfully vexed with me, which means Poppy is also."

While Albus was playing with his neglected familiar and shamelessly plying Fawkes with Phoenix Treats, Minerva poured the wine. For good measure, she added a fingerful of Dreamless Sleep, and carefully swirled. Then Minerva pondered a moment before she added another fingerful and Transfigured the wine back to its normal deep claret shade. The drug payload delivered; the witch then Cooled the wine down to cellar temperature.

"Fawkes has forgiven me for neglecting him," Albus wryly admitted when he reentered the room. "Fortunately, he's a very magnanimous soul and he understands the severity of the current situation."

"Drink," Minerva ordered, as she handed him a glass, carefully holding the stem of the wine glass so not to warm the wine.

"You didn't do anything to it, did you?" softly questioned the Headmaster.

"I merely ensured it was the proper temperature as I deplore warm red wine, but here, let us exchange glasses, since you think the very worst of me," Minerva stated before she carefully and deliberately switched their wine glasses, giving him the heavily laced wine.

"I don't think the worst of you, Minerva," assured a rather pensive Albus. "I've always held you in quite high esteem."

He drank the wine quicker than his norm of savoring each sip, no doubt in a noble attempt to get rid of her quicker, and the potion laced wine hit the exhausted mage hard. When Dumbledore finally collected his wits, he slurred, "Bloody hell, Minerva. What did you put in this? A double dose of Dreamless?"

"Yes," Minerva admitted. "Let's get you to bed, Albus."

He staggered like a drunk on a drunken binge, and she barely managed to drag the Headmaster to his bed before Albus gracelessly collapsed.

"Why? Minerva… you need…" Albus mumbled. "To find him…Needs Poppy…Wake me…"

"What you need more than anything, Albus, is a good night's sleep, Albus. Tomorrow, we'll talk," Minerva assured him. "If there's any news on Severus, even the smallest sliver, I will have Poppy Wake you. I promise."

Carefully, she removed his hat and glasses, and then she began to take off his high heeled, buckled boots even as he sleepily grumbled that he could undress himself just fine. Albus was still mumbling a protest when he finally conked out for the night, right before she finished removing his left boot. Shaking her head at his stubbornness, and his refusal just to fall asleep, she tucked him into bed.

_It's so bloody late, but I need to speak with Filius. _

* * *

"Now, Adrik, I will do a little Reiki on you," advised Sasha. The white haired mage gave Severus a smile that was no doubt meant to be compassionate and encouraging. "Can you tell me anything about what happened to you that might assist me in aligning your chi'i?"

Severus barely managed to prevent himself from making a caustic quip about Sasha not hearing him the first dozen times he had told the older mage the oh so exciting, you really had to be there to believe it story of how he had misplaced his arm.

"The Dark Lord had an eppy and chopped off my arm," snapped Severus. He understood that he should be politer to the older mage, but Severus also knew that he best stop scriking and being such a sad arse. It was time to stop whinging, and be more forceful. Sasha would have just to bear with him until Severus figured out the perfect balance between respectful and assertive. If he couldn't depend on Minerva after all their years at Hogwarts, how could he trust Sasha? The mage had found him semi-conscious and puking in an alley, after all.

Not a very good first impression.

Therefore, it was imperative that he quickly pull himself together. Hadn't he learned by now that he could rely on no one but himself? From hard earned experience, Severus knew that he _**especially**_ couldn't trust those that seemed kindly disposed to him.

Hadn't Lily cheerily assured him that they'd be friends forever? Hadn't Minerva promised to assist him in learning how to appropriately deal with the livid Headmaster? It wasn't her fault that everything had gone pear-shaped, truly it wasn't, but damn it, he had desperately needed someone, _**anyone**_… to _**muzzle**_ the Headmaster.

Speaking of Dumbledore, hadn't the saintly Headmaster pledged to bond him so their child could live? Foolishly, he had believed them, trusted them all.

Why the bloody hell should he trust Sasha?

He had confessed the reason behind his amputation to Sasha as it was pretty bloody obvious that he was missing an arm, but like bloody hell would Severus Snape tell him about all the horrors that he endured. Far too many people knew about Severus the pansy being ridden like a pony for his comfort and he wouldn't tell anyone else.

It would deeply scar Ari to learn that her father was a slut.

It wasn't as though he had entertained the troops willingly, but if Ari ever heard the slightest rumor regarding the sheer number of men that had amused themselves with him during his stay at Hotel de Dark Lord, the poor sprog would be scandalized. His greatest fear was that his daughter would lose what little respect she had for him.

_I couldn't bear to lose your love, Ari. I love you unconditionally, and I foolishly delude myself with the happy thought that you will love me just as wholeheartedly. You'll hear the truth about me, I'm sure, and be rightfully horrified and disgusted, but please, find it in your heart to have some affection for me. I will gladly die so you can be born. Is that not a love of Gryffindorish proportion?_

Sasha gazed at him for some time, and then the mage nodded his head in weary acceptance of Severus' reticence.

_He's letting me keep my secrets, unlike the Headmaster who would pull them from my soul so he could delightedly revel in my deepest shame. No doubt, Sasha has his own horrors that he does not particularly care to reveal to anyone. I doubt Oxana knows everything about Sasha, as what soul could willingly love a monster like Sasha or myself?_

"Adrik, I know that, but I know that you are not revealing everything to me. Very well then, can you put yourself into that meditative state that we attempted earlier? I don't want you to go completely into it, but I do need you to relax."

_What a bloody big ball of wank this is_, Severus mentally snapped.

Yes, it was a bloody great big ball of wank, but Sasha had demanded several sessions of Reiki Therapy to stabilize Severus' chi'i before he'd make the attempt to regrow Severus' arm. Therefore, Severus had decided to humor the Dark Mage by agreeing his proposal. That was why he was currently lying on a massage table in a dimly lit room, wearing nothing but Sasha's dressing gown that had been resized to fit him. Oh, and thankfully, a pair of knickers had been provided so his bits weren't hanging out in the breeze.

"I might need to touch you, so do not be afraid," continued Sasha who seemed oblivious to Severus' doubts. "I'll attempt to do this without touching you, but I might need to rest my hands on various body parts. I know you don't believe this treatment will do you any good, but for now, why don't you just humor me? If you're a good boy and let me do this, I promise you that we'll buy you some clothes of your very own."

"Do I have a choice in this matter?" Severus retorted. Yes, Severus had made a decision, but what a choice it was. To be permanently bereft of his left arm for the few months remaining to him? Or take the slim chance that he might regain some use of it?

"There's always a choice, Adrik. There are those who think that life is nothing left to chance, a host of holy horrors to direct our aimless dance. You can choose what path to walk; you do have free will. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice," the Dark Wizard calmly stated. "You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill. But only make the choice, Adrik."

Bloody hell, was Sasha an Agony Aunt or was he a Bloody Dark Mage whose very name scared babes into uncontrollable fits of scriking? In case Sasha was confused, the correct answer was that Sasha was a very dangerous soul whose true name would cause pee to dribble down Lucius Malfoy's leg.

"Very well, let's start this insanity. Sooner started, sooner ended and the quicker I'm bloody clothed. I had hoped that during Oxana's worldly travels she might have picked up more than just knickers for me." He put as much bite as he could in his tone.

"Good, you're getting some of your piss and vinegar back," approvingly murmured the Bulgarian wizard. "That's an _**excellent**_ sign. You know that the reason why we didn't get you anything more than knickers was that we'd thought you'd run. It's difficult to flee when you're only wearing pants, and remember, I still haven't promised you shoes of any type."

Severus wondered how hard it would be to obtain a pair of Sasha's shoes. Yes, play the grateful patient, get his left arm, acquire some proper clothes and then nick the wizard's shoes.

"Perhaps, this is the time where I remind you that I have significantly bigger feet than you do," Sasha dutifully informed his patient. "Oxana's shoes are too small. You won't get very far in your bare feet."

_Bugger. Bugger. Bugger! But where the hell could I go? The Headmaster is furious with me, and I can't return to Hogwarts until his ire cools. Minerva won't help me, as no doubt the Headmaster blames my escape on Minerva's leniency with me. He wants the child; he only needs me to carry it to until she's viable._

Sasha continued to talk even while Severus obsessively pondered dark thoughts.

"Now… close your eyes and rid your mind of any feelings of fear, stress, or anxiety. Take a long, slow, deep breath. You might find it difficult not to think and you may find that stray thoughts keep popping into your mind. If this happens, don't try to force the thoughts out. Examine them with detachment and without prejudice, and then let them slip away through your fingers...as though you were holding water in your hands…"

Sasha placed his hands only a few centimeters from Severus' face, and he ceased nattering for which Severus was rather grateful. The Bulgarian mage stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he moved his hands above Severus' throat.

"What is this _**supposed**_ to do for me?" Severus finally questioned when the intense silence grew unbearable. He felt a warmth in his head and shoulders and he accepted that it was merely the placebo effect working on his battered subconscious. Yet, Severus couldn't deny that his neck muscles were a great deal looser than they had been. Could the power of suggestion really relax his muscles that much?

"I'm channeling my healing energy to your chi'i. My energy should be drawn by your injuries to help enhance the natural healing processes. Mikao Usui was dead right about Reiki, but if the practitioner is a Healer-trained Mage, it works significantly better because we know what pathways to nudge," Sasha explained in a terse tone.

"How long should I expect to lie here while you wiggle your hands over me?"

"Treatments are usually sixty minutes, but I think I'll need more time with you two. You might feel a sense of euphoria. I have had a few patients tell me that they felt warm or tingly, but not all. It really depends on your sensitivity," admitted Sasha.

"My lack of sensitivity is legendary," snarked Severus. "In fact, I am justifiably proud of it. It's taken me years to hone it."

"I've noted your insensitivity already, which is quite possibly why I enjoy you so much, Adrik," retorted Sasha. "You might relax enough to fall asleep during a treatment. Whatever happens during the treatment, don't fight it, Adrik."

* * *

He found himself back in the park and a sleepy Ari had snuggled in his lap. Unlike the previous time, the energetic Ari was rather lethargic and hadn't demanded that he play with her. No, now she was content merely to cuddle. Severus permitted himself the opportunity to stroke her wild hair, attempting to calm the unruly mess into some semblance of order.

_Least you don't have hair like Granger plus your teeth are perfect. PERFECT! Who would have thought that I could play such an essential role in producing such a beautiful child?_

"Yes, I feel sleepy also," Severus confessed. "Maybe I'll be able to fall asleep and not have any dreams. Uncle Sasha's Reiki Folly seems to have some positive aspects after all. Yes, Ari, he's your Uncle Sasha. For such a young child, you have such a menagerie of strange relatives. You've got your Auntie Minnie with her obscene tartan fetish, Uncle Aberforth and his fondness for goats and you have Auntie Oxana and Uncle Sasha, both of whom we don't dare talk about in front of your Father, as Sasha had that slight disagreement with your Father."

While he couldn't claim to be euphoric, Severus certainly thought that he was rather verbose.

The spreading feeling of warm relaxation started at the crown of his head, flowed down his neck and then into his right arm. The warm feeling enveloped his feet, slowly spreading up his lower legs. Ari gave a mighty yawn, drowsily whispered a very soft, "Love you, Papa," and then began to sleepily suck her thumb.

"Just for now, I'll let you do it," Severus groggily decided as he lacked the energy to do anything besides relax. "But don't plan on making it a habit."

Drifting… floating… a drowsing Severus soon forgot where exactly he was. The warm sensation comforted and consoled him; eased his physical and mental tension… He didn't know how long he was adrift when reality intervened.

"Roll on your side," ordered a male voice.

Groggy, he murmured a sleepy protest against Albus' rather rude interruption of his slumber. His mind still fuzzy, he attempted to drift back to sleep even while he soothed Ari.

"Roll on your left side," Albus repeated. "Come on, trust me. Doesn't this feel good? It will feel so much better if you just roll on your side."

His subconscious panicked and instinctively reacted to that all too familiar coaxing taunt from his capturers. He would _**die**_ before he let Albus ride him while _**Ari watched**_. Albus' magic had sparked the dying, magical embers in his soul and somehow, he found the strength to Choke Albus even while Ari wailed in terror.

* * *

_He was standing over a slumbering Severus who seemed deeply asleep. Truly, Albus had never seen Severus so peaceful, the harsh lines on his face soothed away, revealing how young Severus truly was and how much pain he kept hidden behind his mask. His hands nimbly gestured and maneuvered over Severus, not touching Severus yet Albus could feel his power flowing into the sleeping figure._

_The boy's head first, so he could treat the Muladhara chakra and the Anja chakra, then his neck so the Vishuddha chakra could be corrected. That treatment completed, he found himself sweating, as the boy was draining him far more than he expected. Truly, he was getting too old to effortlessly provide this type of treatment, but still he persevered for Severus needed the healing that only he could provide. The boy's shoulders were properly aligned then he tenderly cared for Severus' right arm. _

_It felt __**right**__ to be taking care of Severus, to be able to support him magically during this difficult time. _

_He paused then, uncertain about whether to adjust the boy's __Muladhara, Anahata, Manipura or Swadhistana chakras next. The left arm, he would leave until last. Hopefully, Severus would be so deeply relaxed that he wouldn't be able to sense his wound being doctored. He wasn't treating the major chakras in his standard order, as the boy's auras were such a bloody, chaotic mess. This wasn't a true Healing, but instead Magical Triage. _

_Yes, he would align the boy's Muladhara chakra next. The base root chakra, it dealt with survival, security and safety. Fix that, have it flowing properly, and he could get the boy centered and grounded. Then he could work on the boy's magical deficiency. The Muladhara was located on the base of Severus' spine in the coccyx region. Even with Severus in a supine position, he could manipulate the Muladhara but Albus' energy could be more efficiently dispersed if Severus was in the left lateral recumbent position. He was old, and exhausting himself during the Healing. The boy's mental, physical and magical wounds were extensive, and Albus needed to conserve his magic if he wanted to be able to complete the session._

"_Roll on your side," he whispered. _

_The boy moaned once in response, and Albus repeated his request._

"_Roll on your left side," he repeated. "Come on, trust me. Doesn't this feel good? It will feel so much better if you just roll on your side." _

_His words caused the boy to panic. Severus' magic had been diluted to the point where he had foolishly believed the mage too weak to attack him, but he hadn't expected the boy to react like this. The boy sucked the magical energy from him and directed it back towards him, bludgeoning him with raw, uncontrollable power. The air around him was literally crackling from the sheer amount of wild, chaotic magic that a frenzied Severus was wielding. _

"_No! NO! NEVER AGAIN! I won't let you touch me!" _

_Severus was still panicking, caught in a nightmare from which he couldn't break and he reacted instinctively. With a twist of his mind, he brutally slammed Albus against the wall. The breath knocked out of him, Albus realized that he couldn't breathe as Severus was choking him._

"_I'll kill you before I let you do that to me again!"_

Albus woke then, gasping for breath, his heart pounding. Hesitantly, he put his hand against his bruised throat and winced. Truly, he felt as though Severus had attempted to physically strangle him.

"Why am I dreaming of aligning Severus' Chakras?" His voice was hoarse as his throat was quite painful. "What madness is this?"

* * *

Sasha was being viciously bludgeoned and choked by a panicking Severus. During the Reiki session, he had kept himself defenseless, wide open in order to promote the transfer of energies, and his patient had turned it against him.

"_**No! NO! NEVER AGAIN! I won't let you touch me!" **_

Severus wasn't aware of his surroundings. Least, Sasha preferred to believe that the boy wasn't intentionally choking him to death. But it didn't really matter _**why**_ the boy was doing it, as the pressing issue was that Sasha couldn't breathe.

"_**I'll kill you before I let you do that to me again!"**_

His patient was frenzied from fear and Sasha regretted what he had to do next but it was essential to physically shock the boy. Severus was sucking power from him at an unholy rate, and if he managed to drain Sasha dry, the boy would almost certainly consume Sasha's heartstone next. Plus, Sasha had to admit that he was ever so slightly pissed that he had gotten himself into this situation.

_No good deed ever goes unpunished._

If he didn't get the boy under control shortly, Sasha knew that his cursed temper would boil over and Severus would be massacred. Time in which to successfully resolve the situation was running short as his vision was blood tinged and he could hear the damnable, maddening drums in his head, pounding in time to his racing heartbeat. With a heavy heart, but knowing it was the only acceptable alternative when faced with the risk of a berserking madman or a magical apocalypse caused by an unstable heartstone, Sasha slapped the boy hard with his open hand, putting all of his substantial physical strength into the blow. A stunned Severus bonelessly collapsed like a stunned Oliphant. Fortunately for Severus' sake, Sasha managed to grab him before he hit the floor.

"I'm coming!" Oxana roared as she quickly ran up the steps to the treatment room. "What the bloody hell happened?"

"Blue vial," Sasha tersely ordered, as he roughly pulled Severus into a tight embrace. "He panicked during the session as something triggered a reaction. The boy turned my magic against me and I hit him. Upon close reflection, I might have hit him a wee bit too hard as his face is bruising."

"Oh, just a typical day in the office," Oxana snarked. "Let me get the vial. I'm assuming you'll want the full regiment."

"Yes, I will. It's alright, you didn't kill me," Sasha hoarsely assured a mute, trembling Severus. "I'm still here. You're not the first person to attempt to kill me and I can easily assure you with complete confidence that you won't be the last. Let's get you grounded and centered, lad, as it will help. Now, breathe in slowly, hold it, and exhale…. That's it. Breathe in…. breathe out…. Breathe in…. breathe out… "

"You've got his _**thumbprints**_ on your _**throat**_," announced a horrified Oxana when she returned in short order with a fully loaded tea service. "What the bloody hell happened? Why are you talking like that? What happened to your voice?"

"He tried to choke me," Sasha explained. His voice could only be described as a very tightly controlled. "Like I explained, he panicked during our session, turned my magic against me and attempted to strangle me. Put three drops of the blue vial in the tea and briskly stir it anticlockwise twice and then add one teaspoon of the red vial. You'll then need to stir it clockwise three times and then dissolve two sugar cubes into the mixture. I'll hold him, and you ensure that he drinks all of it."

It took a great deal of effort on Oxana's part, but Severus managed to choke down the medication.

"Didn't I ask you if there was anything you needed to tell me, Adrik?" hissed a wrathful Sasha. "Some God must like you, as you're damn fortunate that I didn't bloody _**slaughter**_ both of you just now. I should wash my hands of you. I should wrap you up like a present with a pink ribbon and leave you in the middle of the Merlin blasted Quidditch Pitch for St. Dumbledore to find. Give me one _**good**_ reason why I shouldn't!"

Severus said not a word; instead he seemed to shrink even further into himself.

"Calm down, Dami," Oxana coolly stated. "Your blood is boiling and your anger is causing our Shielding to pulsate. If you don't settle down and soon, every mage in Europe will decide it necessary to investigate the chaotic magical disturbance your reprehensible lack of control is causing. Do you truly desire that?"

A raging Sasha stormed out of the room and Oxana quietly sighed.

"Don't worry; you won't have to deal with Dami today. Traditionally, after he has an eppy, he'll be exhausted and sleep for most of the day," she admitted. "Tomorrow, Dami will be horribly mortified by his bad humor and he'll be absolutely impossible; terribly apologetic and quite determined to make amends."

Severus muttered something softly, perhaps an agreement, perhaps not, but Oxana took it as such.

"Let me put you to bed. It'll be alright, he won't throw you out in the streets," she assured Severus. "That was the madness talking."

"I should go," whispered Severus. "Get me clothes, get me shoes, I'll leave. When he wakes, I'll be long gone. I promise."

She manhandled Severus into standing on his feet, and she half carried, half dragged him to his bed.

"Get some sleep," the witch ordered. Her voice was not unkindly. "Reiki affects people differently. Some people have an emotional breakthrough during a session, though you're the first patient that's attempted to murder Dami during a treatment."

She softly laughed, and carefully tucked him into bed.

"You can't leave here. The medication I administered to you will ensure that you're sleeping for the next twelve hours or so."

"Why?" Severus whispered. "Why are you helping me? I don't understand."

"Because, Adrik, in every human, there is a potential for unspeakable evil balanced only by unlimited compassion."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

* * *

A mentally exhausted Filius Flitwick was in his jimjams and savoring a cuppa of Chamomile tea before bed. His pleasant thoughts of going to bed where shot to hell when Rowena, his portrait guardian, quietly advised him that Minerva desired to speak with him. As it was a few minutes short of midnight, Filius knew the matter was important and no doubt dealt with Albus' recent spur of the moment trip to Nurmengard. Minerva wouldn't be visiting this late to discuss Quidditch, but oh, how he wished she was.

"Please let her in," he requested. Filius pinched his nose and pushed up his glasses. He forced a smile onto his face when he warmly greeted Minerva.

To Filius' intense apprehension, Minerva, the very embodiment of a Gryffindor Lioness, appeared hesitant. He had seen her exhilarated, cross, amused, snarky and a thousand other assorted emotions during their long friendship, but when Minerva appeared uncertain, it was time to batten down the hatches and put away the broomsticks.

"Whatever is the matter?" The Charms Master softly questioned. "Minerva, love, sit down."

Minerva refused to take a seat; instead, she shook her head.

"I fear that I might know who our mysterious green eyed mage is," Minerva slowly admitted. "The problem is that he's rumored to be quite utterly dead."

"I won't tell him that's he's deceased if you won't," the witty Filius quickly quipped. "I'd hate for him to fall over dead from the shock when he realizes that he's actually alive. But what else aren't you telling me about our very-not-so-dead Wizard? I get this unhappy feeling there is so much left unsaid."

"If I'm right, our green-eyed bonnie boy was instrumental in the near formation of a New World Order," confessed Minerva. "As it stands, our friend is accountable for the complete and absolute annihilation of the Bulgarian Department of Aurors among countless other atrocities."

Quickly, she spoke of her suspicions, why she believed the mage in question was Damyan Draganov and then Minerva repeated verbatim her conversation with Gellert. Mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted, she concluded her dissertation by gracelessly collapsing into Filius' settee. With a soft moan, a dejected Minerva rested her head in her hands.

"You're the smartest mage I know. You see patterns and potentials where others see nothing. Tell me that I'm wrong, Filius," she earnestly pleaded. "I want my hypothesis to merely be the scared musings of a silly old bint. Give me a thousand reasons why I'm wrong, Filius! Reassure me that the boy hasn't gone from the skillet into the fire!"

Her sincere pleas to be proven wrong were met by silence. At last, a less than chuffed Minerva opened her eyes to a silent Filius intently pulling his wispy memories of the mage from his mind and placing them into the air. A heavy tome floated from his library and gently landed on the table that had appeared after Minerva had entered the room. The pages of the book moved as though there was an invisible set of hands flipping them, and finally, it opened on a particular image. The photo was of a securely shackled and spell-restrained, wild-haired mage. His gaze was vacant; his ruined face was bruised, battered and bleeding but his nervous jailers treated him as though he was a rampaging animal. His jittery guards gingerly attempted to force him to face towards the photographer but Draganov noticed them not at all.

Filius swished and flicked his wand, and pulled the picture from the book. The image glided over to where Filius' memory was.

"Hold," Filius commanded. "I'm not overlaying you just yet. Let's clean up his pretty face and calm down that wild mane. Change the hair color, add fifty or so years. Add the beard to hide that chin."

Filius stared at the two images for some time before he started making minute changes to the physical images of the two mages. The nose was changed, the chin modified and wrinkles were added. Finally, he regretfully nodded his head in weary agreement.

"Bloody hell, _**not**_ Draganov," Filius then fluently cursed in Goblin for some time. "Now the terrible questions begin. Did He Who Caused All This Trouble recruit the bastard to be Severus' nanny? Or is he just a wildcard in this bloody mess? What the bloody hell right does he have to be alive? Are there others of Gellert's Ruddy Brotherhood out there? Is he alone? Or does he have help?"

"I'll wait until the morning to tell Albus," decided Minerva. "He's sleeping right now. He's quite exhausted and I drugged him so he'd sleep."

Filius shook his head.

"No, you must _**not**_ tell Albus anything about this. Did not Albus tell you that your loyalty to Severus must override everything else?" Filius quickly reminded her. "Albus is not thinking rationally right now. He went to visit Gellert, Min. _**GELLERT**_. If Gellert is in contact with _**any**_ of his followers…"

"Draganov will know that I was asking questions about him," Minerva whispered. She had thought that to confirm Draganov's identity it would be worth the risk, but now, with a clearer mind, she wasn't so sure. "What if Draganov decides to retreat further into the shadows?"

"Quite right, he may hunker down or he might flee, but you have at least managed to confirm who our mage is." Filius' eyes were bright as he quickly spoke. "Actually, it's probably for the best that Severus in under Draganov's care. Remember, Min, Draganov was a Healer-Surgeon and there is no doubt in my mind that Draganov will decide that it is in his best interest to keep Severus hale and healthy. If Draganov is unaffiliated with You Know Who, then he'll know that a dead Severus will not be worth much in trade to You Know Who, the Aurors or Dumbledore. Now that we know _**who**_ is caring for Severus, Minerva, locating him will be our next concern. As for Albus? This delicate situation requires finesse and diplomacy. He's a burning Phoenix in a wand shop and Albus is the reason why Severus did a runner. It pains me to say this, but Albus must _not_ be made aware of this conversation."

While it would be nice to blame Albus for everything that had occurred, Minerva had to be honest and demand her share of the blame be correctly apportioned. She opened her mouth to point that out but Filius quickly shot her down.

"_**Tosh**_! You know I'm right, Min. Yes, you bungled it, but nowhere near as bad as Albus did. It's imperative that we keep Albus out of this, as he's going quite spare. But who can we trust to help us in this matter?" Filius paused.

While Filius was brilliant in all manners of practical and theoretical magic, his keen mind was unable to grasp the subtle clout of favors owed and the hubris of underestimating a shirty mediwitch scorned. Or so Minerva naively thought.

"Horace owes Severus, and I believe Poppy would like nothing more than to spite Albus for his recent overbearing, imperious manner," Minerva suggested.

Filius' mustache quirked and he truly made a noble effort to hide his evil smile. Sadly, it was doomed to failure.

"Yes, Horace and Poppy would be perfect as they know the _**gravidity**_ of the current situation," Filius quipped.

"If Severus was here, he'd hex off your nethers for that pun," Minerva half-heartedly snapped, though there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. Thank Merlin for Filius' irrepressible nature as it was simply impossible to be downhearted in his proximity.

The Charms Master laughed once more but Filius quickly turned serious.

"Minerva, how much do you remember about rescuing Severus?" Filius intently questioned.

Events immediately preceding and following Severus' escape from The One Minerva Would Like to Castrate with a Blunt Butter Knife if His Bits Hadn't Shrunken and Fallen Off Already were rather foggy, Minerva had to admit. Lots of blood, an explosion or three, Filius being flung across the room, a loud splat involving lurid, purple robes, and there were tantalizing flashes of half remembered memories.

"You donate blood to help bind the spiritual and physical essences of both Severus and Albus so that we could locate the child. Albus immediately bonded Severus to keep him alive after his rescue," patiently explained Filius. "It was rather chaotic, Severus was in danger of dying, and time was of the utter essence. Is there any chance that during that period of terrible confusion that Albus accidentally bonded you also? Bonding requires blood, Minerva, and there was great deal of it freely flowing at the time. Severus, Albus and you were bleeding. If your blood had intermingled with theirs and Albus performed the Bonding, you could be Bonded with them."

_**I couldn't be bloody Bonded to the boys! I couldn't! I'd strongly feel their emotions! That's part of the Bond, the emotional and spiritual connection! **_

Minerva attempted to collect her thoughts but her mind was still having trouble seriously conceptualizing the thought of being Bonded to both Albus and Severus. As the arbitrator in that unholy troika, Minerva would need a Quidditch whistle, a referee bat and a Stun Stick to prevent an overly protective Albus from overwhelming the traumatized Severus. Yes, one was only supposed to use a Stun Stick on a rampaging dragon, but the thought of using it on Albus Dumbledore while quite juvenile, was emotionally quite satisfying.

Perhaps Fawkes would look the other way when she applied it to a very sensitive part of Albus' anatomy.

_**There's no way I could be Bonded with them and stay sane! I'd be pulled hither and yon due to the strength of the emotions involved!**_

"Minerva, if your blood has mingled and you are Bonded to them, I can have a go of using you as a bloodhound to locate Severus. Promote the rumor that you and Horace have resumed your affair, and he'll be able to escort you on your travels. I don't want you facing Draganov by yourself. I have no doubt that you can easily handle him, but I've lost Severus, I couldn't bear to lose you also. A wizard my age? I don't have that many close friends left," admitted Filius.

"You knew about Horace and me?" Minerva painfully asked. She knew her cheeks were the color of sunset. Damn it, Filius was rumored to be utterly clueless about such things!

"I know many dismiss me as an oblivious academic, but you did put a rather jaunty bounce in his step, Min," easily answered Filius. "Just because I refuse to join the hens in gossiping, doesn't mean I don't see the obvious. I just choose not to comment on it. I have ethics, and take the higher road."

Filius knew about Severus, Horace and Albus. Did everyone else know about her affairs? She needed to change the subject and do so quickly.

"I'm not sure if Albus bonded the three of us. I do feel… an affinity… to Severus and the bairn, but I'm not persuaded that this… feeling… is because of a supposed Troika Bonding. There was an understanding between Severus and myself, a chary fondness, if you will, and at one time, I did want a child of my own," slowly admitted Minerva. "Our attachment may not be robust enough to assist in locating him. I'm not sure how strongly he felt toward me."

Filius shook his head in disbelief before he rubbed his tired eyes.

"Min, the boy was quite keen on you. If the boy didn't love you, then whatever emotion Severus felt toward you was probably the closest thing to love that he's ever known."

"I never led him on," she softly protested. "I never promised him more than a tumble. I certainly warned him against him falling in love with me because of his hormones."

"Yes, but you gave him so much more than a mere tumble," Filius gently reminded Minerva. "Severus let you meet the true man behind his façade, and to his extreme shock, you weren't frightened away. You gave what he intrinsically craved; empathy, emotional intimacy and a jolly good time in bed. You readily accepted that he secretly fancied Albus and you didn't take the mickey out of him for it."

"I couldn't mock him for loving Albus," Minerva protested. "How could I? I loved that damn fool too."

"I know that, Min. It's late, Minerva, and it's long past time for you to get some sleep. I'll work on crafting a Charm so I can use you to locate Severus. It will take some time, but you can talk to Horace and Poppy about what we'll need and see if they're willing to help us."

* * *

Oxana had already checked on her various patients this morning. Adrik was still deeply asleep and a mute Sasha was staring blankly at the wall which meant that he was in the nadir of his personal crisis. The two familiars had been admired, adored, fed and then thoroughly brushed, and now Grisha and Nadya were intently patrolling the shop. Oxana had just finished the pre-opening checklist for the shop when she heard the bells on the front door jingle as the purportedly locked door easily opened. Grisha jumped on the counter next to her and sounded one quiet, concerned chirp while Nadya streaked past her to rouse Sasha.

The familiars' actions meant only one thing.

_**Mage. There's a bloody mage at the door and Sasha is having an eppy!**_

Immediately, Oxana tightened her grip on her wand, and with her left hand, she reached under the counter for a few small toys that Sasha had prepared for unwanted guests.

"May I help you?"

Her tone was cool and composed, but her heart was beating a thousand times a minute. Had one of Severus' former Masters found where he was hiding?

"Ohayou gozaimasu!" That was the cheerful response in English, heavily seasoned with a Japanese accent. "I saw your shop was open for business, Madam. Do you have any Gennoshouko for an ill traveler from Japan? My good friend Hana recommended your shop."

Her heart continued to merrily pound, as she recognized her customer's voice and the code words. Oxana's tight grip on her wand loosened, but only slightly. She put her left hand back on the counter and spread it wide to show her guest that it was empty. Bloody hell, she would have almost preferred Gellert, Dumbledore or even the newest self Styled Dark Lord to waltz into her shop and ask for something for the trots.

No, her early morning customer was _**Ishikawa**__**Byakko, **_Gellert's one time personal, private executioner. His arrival on her doorstep could only mean that an emergency had occurred but Snezhana, the defacto Head of Gellert's Brotherhood, was leery of using the standard manner of communication. Of the surviving members of the Brotherhood, only Ishikawa Byakko was able to openly move in the daylight as his countless victims were dead and unable to identify him to the proper authorities.

"I'm sorry to hear that our cuisine is adversely affecting you," she murmured in what she hoped was a sympathetic tone. While she doubted that Byakko actually had the trots, it was always wise not to offend him. He was almost as tetchy as Sasha was. "Let me see if I have any Gennoshouko. I'm afraid that it's not particularly popular here."

"I would be extremely grateful," the Japanese mage assured her. "If you have anything similar, I would indeed be most appreciative as I have a flight to Agadir that I can not miss. My delicate stomach is proving quite the annoyance."

Agadir, Morocco meant Byakko was informing Ilias and Amina next. Bloody hell! Byakko was using Muggle transportation? That meant Snezhana had ordered a complete magical lockdown. What the hell had happened?

The silver haired mage stepped into view, a slight, nebbish looking man. For all the world he appeared to be the stereotypical Japanese tourist. There was a rather expensive looking camera with assorted doodads hanging around his neck to complete his charade as a tourist. Yes, he looked like a sightseer, except for the fact that Byakko's cold, dark eyes were utterly devoid of anything resembling humanity.  
_  
_"I can offer you something, but I need to make it," Oxana said.

Byakko nodded his head once in silent acknowledgement. Quickly, she expertly combined the chamomile tincture, the blackberry brandy and a few other essential oils before shaking the mixture vigorously. She poured the liquid into a small vial and gingerly handed it to Byakko.

"One teaspoon every thirty minutes," she briskly instructed. "Fifteen quid."

He quaffed the drink, handed her payment, and then bowed once more.

"Keep the change." A fleeing smile graced his face, and he whispered, "My sincerest regards to Damyan," before he quickly left the shop. Oxana tightly crumpled the bill in her hand, and then she quickly relocked the shop door and flipped the sign to "CLOSED."

Her hands were shaking, and she stuffed them into her apron's pockets. Ishikawa Byakko scared the bloody hell out of the Russian Auror once known as Ekaterina and she wasn't ashamed to admit it.

"Company, Oxana?" rumbled Sasha from the hallway. It seemed Nadya had been quite determined in rousing Sasha as he was sporting several raw, oozing scratches on his hand.

Oxana glanced at her lover, saw that his hair was a mess and his clothes rumbled.

"Byakko just delivered a message from Snezhana." Oxana then handed him the crumbled bill. "Straighten your hair and clothes as you look a fright. You'll scare off our paying customers as they'll think you've gone round the bend."

"He couldn't tell you what's happened?" Sasha questioned, deliberately ignoring her tart comments on his appearance. He placed the bill on the countertop and began meticulously straightening it with his fingers.

"_**Wouldn't**_," Oxana stressed.

She had been Sasha's companion for several decades and his lover for the last dozen or so years, but his erstwhile companions were not her friends. The Brotherhood… tolerated… her for Sasha's sake and for no other reason. If she managed to outlive Sasha, Oxana suspected that Byakko would swiftly dispatched to quickly post her to the afterlife. After all, while Oxana knew too much about the Brotherhood to be permitted to live unfettered, Snezhana was too wary of Sasha's temper tantrums to openly move against her. It was a small mercy that her death would be painlessly quick, as the Japanese Assassin-Mage prided himself on his complete professionalism.

Her life would be significantly less complicated if Sasha hadn't decided to intervene in that alleyway in Geneva. Yes, Ekaterina Sidorova Dobrolubskaia would be _**dead**_, but she wouldn't be in Manchester dealing the problem child known as Adrik. Her instincts were finely honed after so many years on the run, and they were screaming that the magical maelstrom surrounding Adrik, Dumlbedore and the newest Dark Lord was the reason why the monster known as Ishikawa Byakko had been unleashed.

"Byakko's blinkered," Sasha offered by way of terse explanation. He narrowed his eyes and intently peered at the bill. He grimaced at the message and within short order, the bill spontaneously combusted. "Gellert sent a message via a sparrow to Snezhana. Unfortunately, it wasn't a bigger brained bird as all Snezhana made out was that Gellert was quite concerned. The Brotherhood is incommunicado from this point on but Byakko will be dispatched with updates once Snezhana determines what exactly happened. Toma and his extended family have already been moved to a safe location. Once they get settled, the others will be relocated also."

"We're moving then?" Oxana asked. She tried not to sigh, but Manchester had been their happy home for many years. "Where will we be sent?"

"I had previously discussed our possible redeployment with Rada. They know our heartstone will have to be carefully dismantled, so they're giving us sufficient warning to properly shut it down. She was quite vexed that I picked up more strays but she agreed to make room for all of us, including the baby, in Bermuda. The parentage of the child must be a tightly guarded secret as she believes that both parents are under my protection. Adrik will be passed off as the father, and the mother will have supposedly died in childbirth." Sasha's voice was deadly serious. "The others… they would not understand my participation."

_**Bloody hell, Sasha, I don't even understand why you're getting involved with this!**_

"He may not wish to continue under your care," Oxana reminded Sasha. "Did you forget his noble attempt to throttle you?"

"You know, I do remember something about that," dryly commented Sasha. "He'll just have to be reminded of the many good reasons why he can't be permitted to leave. Let's go talk to our patient. You're a calming influence so I want you to sit in on our little conversation."

* * *

The man once known as Severus Snape but now answering to the name Adrik, needed to pull it all together and do so _**quickly**_. If he appeared the slightest bit vulnerable, the rabid wolf known as Sasha would rip out his throat. That was Severus' first, second and third dark thoughts of the morning. The fourth, darker thought was that Ari was damn lucky that Damyan hadn't just bloody slaughtered him and used his body for compost for his assorted exotic herbs.

He sat up in the bed and protectively pulled the blankets over his naked form. Obviously, the pragmatic Oxana thought he was close to doing a runner and had decided the easiest way to prevent his escape was to take away all this clothes. Why must they insist on him being absolutely starkers, couldn't they leave him in a pink, fuzzy dressing gown? He didn't have shoes; he didn't have pants… where the hell did they think he'd go?

Couldn't a man be allowed a bloody pair of pants? Must his bits dangle in the breeze?

Even the faux Albuses had let him retain some dignity by allowing him clothes. Savagely, he crushed that thought, not wanting to examine it too closely. They hadn't allowed him much in the way of dignity…

"I am a fool," he growled. "I am a fool who wears my heart on my sleeve. I cannot control my emotions; I wallow in painful memories and allow them to consume me. I can not allow this weakness; I must be _**stronger**_ for Ari's sake. This is _**nothing**_ compared to what I have endured through the years. I have done far worse in the service of the Dark Lord. My body, my mind… they are nothing but currency which I will use so that Ari will survive."

There was a knock on the door, and then the door swung open. Savagely, he clawed at his leg, focusing and embracing the pain as a means to control his emotions.

"It's considered polite to ask before one barges into a room," Severus snapped. For good measure, he added a copious amount of the Old Severus in his tone. The Dark Wizard would be reminded that Severus Snape was still a force with which to be reckoned.

The Bulgarian Wizard heard the snap in Severus' voice and he appeared not impressed at all by the frightened, naked man huddled under assorted blankets. He merely rolled his eyes and barked a laugh.

"One of these days, you'll narrow your eyes and I'll drop dead on the spot from an overwhelming, all-encompassing terror. Right now, I'm afraid that I just feel… ticklish as you look peckish, boy. Not just simply peckish, but tetchy, petulant and _**dyspeptic, **_Adrik. Do you need peppermint for your swelling belly?"

Sasha's tone was mocking, and Severus' backbone bristled.

"Morgana's bloody rags," interjected a rather annoyed Oxana. "You two _**must**_ be related. Do I need to oversee this meeting if anything is to be accomplished besides a pissing match between you two?"

"I'd thought we'd first drop our trousers and compare the length of our wands before our pissing contest. Don't want the boy at a disadvantage if his wand is not appropriately sized for the challenge," sardonically retorted Sasha.

Oxana growled and Sasha appeared startled by the sound emanating from her throat.

"Very well, Adrik, out of respect for Oxana's delicate sensibilities, let us put off our pissing contest for another day. I asked you if there was anything I might need to know about your condition before I treated you. I decided to let you keep your secrets, but that was before you attempted to murder me. Like it or not, you are stuck under my roof for the next few months as I can not risk you being captured by Dumbledore, your Dark Lord or the British Aurors."

"You can Obliviate my memories," Severus reminded Sasha of the easiest solution. "Drop me in the street and I will remember nothing of my time here. Oxana, I would appreciate if you would return my clothes before you put me in the alleyway."

"You're not going anywhere in your current condition as your recent ordeal is still too fresh. Need I remind you that an Obliviate will not work on a mind unhinged by traumatic memories," stated the Dark Wizard.

Unhinged.

He was _**not**_ unhinged.

He was perfectly, _**absolutely**_ sane.

The Albuses had taunted him about his shaky grip on reality and how he'd prove dangerous to his child. The Headmaster believed that Severus was a nutter and it would be best to separate him from the sprog. Yes, the Headmaster hadn't shared his belief with him, but Severus had seen the appraising, weighing look in his blue eyes and known it for the truth.

"My mind is _**not**_ unhinged," retorted Severus. "I am far saner that you are for I didn't murder my wife and unborn child."

That reckless retorted caused an angered Sasha to lunge toward Severus and Oxana deliberately stepped between the two wizards. She wasn't a match physically for the Bulgarian mage, but she still managed to hold the enraged mage back. His green eyes were blazing in fury, and his neck veins were obviously distended and throbbing.

Damyan Draganov was incensed and far too late Severus remembered the stories of what happened when Damyan lost his tenuous grip on his temper. He had burned down a substantial part of Minsk. Yes, they claimed it was a lightning strike, but Severus knew the truth.

_I woke the Dragon, Ari. He will slaughter me and nothing will be able to prevent it. _

"Very well, you are _completely_ sane, my new found friend," Sasha stated in a very controlled tone. "You regularly make a habit of attempted murder because you truly believe that I am St. Albus. I Obliviate your _sane_ mind and the traumatic memories will break through so that any half-trained Legilimens within mental distance will hear your _**sniveling**_. If not that, when and not if, St. Albus finds you, he will break you easily, discover who I am and I will find him on my doorstep. I will _**not**_ allow Oxana to be harmed due to you. As for my wife and unborn child, I had nothing to do with their murders. Dana had her throat slashed by a Muggle_**. I merely came home, found my world utterly destroyed and I was deemed the guilty party."  
**_  
The Bulgarian spat that comment at Severus, and Oxana grabbed Sasha by his arm when he moved still closer to the bed. His left hand inched toward his pocket where no doubt his wand was located.

He was going for his wand, and Severus knew his death was imminent.

"Dami, please, _**please**_." The witch's voice was soft, soothing and composed. It seemed that she possessed no fear of the enraged Sasha which meant the witch was either insane or a brillant actress. "The boy doesn't know the truth; he only knows the propaganda that they spread about you. He's been badly traumatized by Dumbledore and this new Dark Lord. Is it no wonder that Adrik is frightened of you? You look like Dumbledore, I've told you that, and those lies they've spread about you have had decades in which to fester and worsen. He reacted badly during the Reiki; you know that it's not uncommon during Reiki to have an emotional breakthrough. His child's an innocent in this, like Iskra was."

For a moment, Severus feared that Oxana had gone too far, as Sasha's face blanched. For a moment, Sasha did nothing. Then he held up his hands, bit his lip and nodded his head.

"Find out his secrets, Katya," Sasha roughly ordered. "Find out what your blessed _**innocent**_ is hiding."

* * *

After Sasha stormed out of the room, Oxana took two deep breaths and then sat down on the edge of the bed. She reached for Severus' right hand and gave it a hard, comforting squeeze.

"Looks like the Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing Program is actually working on Sasha," she softly admitted with a shaky laugh. "Else you and I would be bloody splattered all over the walls for the second time in two days. When Sasha calms down, I'll discuss adding the Desensitization program to your treatments. You two are walking, and talking Poster Boys for Post Traumatic Stress. He's come a long way, as at least he can get angry without blowing off the roof, though I have to admit that I wasn't so certain about mentioning Iskra. He was quite close to completely losing it then, but he managed to step back from the precipice. The wards didn't even tremble…"

It seemed that his disbelief over the truth of Oxana's statement was apparent to the witch. That was far nicer way of saying that he believed her an absolute nutter for thinking Damyan Draganov was anything close to being controlled.

"He's really come _**quite**_ far in controlling the Rage," Oxana insisted. "Sasha doesn't enjoy it when he loses control. In spite of what you've heard, he's not a mindless monster. He didn't kill Dana or Iskra."

"Who's Iskra?" Severus softly questioned.

"His daughter. It's Bulgarian for 'spark', as he and Dana hadn't decided on a proper name for the poor babe before everything went to shit. Once again, I can assure you that Sasha will not throw you out into the street. He's taken you into our Household, tied you in our heartstone..."

Once more, Severus was unexpectedly overwhelmed by how forcibly the Russian witch reminded him of Minerva. Bloody hell, Oxana had attempted to deflect the worst of Sasha's ire away from him at the risk of her own safety. Minerva had done much the same for him when his unwanted reappearance at Hogwarts had disrupted the Headmaster's equilibrium. Would it not have been better for all if he hadn't been rescued, as the Headmaster wouldn't have to deal with the awkward repercussions of a sprogged up, spunk covered Severus? The brave Minerva had stayed the Headmaster's fury and had attempted to broker a tentative accord between them. Yes, the Dumbledore-Snape Treaty had been doomed to failure, but damn it, she had tried.

For her goddaughter's sake, she had attempted the impossible.

_I_ _owe you so much, Minerva. I hope you know that I appreciated your kindness. You, and you alone, have always been kind to me._ _Would that I had only known that before now!_

"A heartstone? He tied me into his heartstone?" Severus repeated.

Heartstones were notoriously finicky and for Sasha to have grafted him into a fully operational heartstone meant that Sasha possessed a great deal of magical skill, not just raw power.

"_**Our**_ heartstone as I put a great deal of myself into it," snapped Oxana. For good measure, she poked him in his rather sore chest. "I helped graft you."

Really, was it truly necessary to jab his sore man boobs? At the rate they were expanding, he'd shortly be in true need of a damn brassiere.

"I am a fairly competent witch, Adrik, and perhaps you should start remembering that. I understand that yes, Sasha is far more impressive than I am as he has a distressing tendency to leave a trail of mass destruction in his chaotic wake."

Oh yes, she was kin to Minerva, and he felt comfortable in responding in kind.

"While Sasha's ability to knock down mountain ranges is quite remarkable, some of us prefer magic used with some subtlety," he retorted.

His quip earned a dry laugh from Oxana.

"You're tied into it; you needed the magical support as the babe was draining you dry. As I was saying, Sasha has brought you into our Household, and he'll do what he can to fix your arm. I would _**highly**_ recommend that you do not attempt to murder him again. He's gets quite cross when that happens. There are some other issues that have risen to the surface which have upset our normally rather placid Sasha so he's thin-skinned and tetchy. We have to leave Manchester."

"I can see why he might be upset," quipped Severus. "Manchester is such a nexus of magical, cultural and intellectual pursuits."

But if they were leaving Manchester, would he still be able to return to Hogwarts for the birth? He had promised the Headmaster he would… No… he couldn't worry about that now, as he still had his sincerest doubts that he'd be alive in August.

"Manchester has been the closest he's had to a home since Sofia," Oxana softly explained. "People don't know him as a kin murder here; they just think that he's the barmy old codger that runs the local New Age shop. That's given him a certain amount of solace. We're moving as most of the remaining Brotherhood is being redeployed."

"Redeployed? Are your friends attempting to take over the world once more?" quipped Severus. "The Dark Lord may have other plans."

"I don't know why we're being moved. Sasha is instructed when and where to move, and he does so. He doesn't ask why, as he is a good little soldier. His friend is quite vexed, but she's agreed to take you, me and the child as part of a package deal with Sasha. I believe that she doesn't approve of my relationship with Sasha as she worries that I will revert back to my true nature at the first opportunity."

"She's not afraid of Sasha, but she's troubled by you?" For good measure, he gave her a long, apprising look, ignoring the fact that he was bloody starkers except for a few strategically bunched bed sheets. "See, someone else appreciates subtlety."

"I was never a supporter of Gellert, I was a Russian Auror, Adrik. The Brotherhood fears that I will turn on them."

Severus didn't quite know how to answer that shocking revelation but Oxana continued to talk.

"It's a very long story on how I was seduced to the dark side, but speaking of long stories, I need to know why you attacked Sasha. I have this feeling that you'll want to be wearing more than bed sheets when you tell me the truth. Sasha will only help you if he believes that you're telling him the truth," Oxana explained. "No more lies, Adrik. No more dissembling, dithering, evading or hedging."

* * *

To give her credit, Oxana attempted to make their serious conversation appear to be nothing more than a cheerful chinwag over a cuppa and bickies. Severus, on the other hand, was quite familiar with reporting unhappy tidings to the Headmaster and he decided that manner of presentation would be the most professional way of handling this conversation. He had his pride, barely, and like bloody hell would he snivel in front of anyone.

It was only for Ari's sake that he decided to speak. The Dark Lord, the Headmaster, Poppy and Minerva had all but signed off on his death certificate as they believed the prognosis of his long term survival was quite doubtful. Only Sasha and Oxana believed that they could get him to term and therefore, he needed them desperately for Ari.

_Only for you, my love, would I admit my shame to anyone. _

He kept his tone dispassionate, savagely repressing all emotions. Now it was time for a cold, dry report, not covered in useless emotions. Matter-of-factly, he recited what had occurred to him, glossing over the unimportant issues.

Yes, Albus had taken him for a lover on the night before he had been abducted. He lied then, claiming that their sexual congress had been the results of high holiday spirits combined with too much punch. Nothing more, he insisted, firmly denying that there had been any emotional involvement on either of their parts. It wasn't a complete lie, merely a half-truth as his had been the only emotions invoked in their tumble. Dispassionately, he discussed how the conception had inadvertently taken placed that night thanks to the ministrations of the Dark Lord.

He attempted to brush over his misadventures with the Faux Albuses, but he found himself horribly talkative. He struggled, but he couldn't cease talking about what cruelties he had endured, and his voice cracked even while his throat grew parched. Sasha was in the room, and while his heart screamed at him for not noticing the mage's arrival, Severus' mouth was too engaged to care. Was there something in the damn tea? The frosting on the bickies? They had drugged him and he hadn't noticed!

The filth poured from his mouth as he detailed _**exactly**_ what had happened to him. Sasha wanted the truth, and therefore Severus would give him the bloody truth. Let the bastard revel in his nightmares.

After Severus' voice grew hoarse, Sasha poured him something from a dark green bottle and assured him it was quite safe to drink. Whatever the liquid was, it tasted like fruit juice, burned like Holy Fire on the way down, and left him feeling extremely mellow. The sane part of Severus was horrified when he became even more talkative thanks to whatever it was. The words were pouring from his mouth, and his emotional control was slipping terribly.

He continued to talk while Sasha continued to pour until at last he was admitting the bitterest truth.

"They put memories… in my head. I accept in my heart …that they didn't happen, but my mind clearly remembers. The Headmaster didn't do those horrible things to me, but …. I was… Dumbledore's Whore and I was… so damn proud… I was overjoyed…. because he enjoyed my body so much. He… he… and… I…I…remember … can hear the noises…the taste… the smells… the feel …it didn't happen… but it's still in my head. He's not… that type of man… He's proper… not pervy…He wouldn't… **never** to a student…It wasn't… him… He's _**not**_… a paedophile. He's not!"

His mouth moved and he couldn't voice his true horror as the Dark Lord's compulsion _**still**_ silenced his tongue.

_The Dark Lord is using me to weaken the Headmaster._

Severus was screaming that in his mind, and no one could hear him.

"Drink the rest," Sasha gruffly ordered. "It'll help."

A few long swallows and the bottle was empty. He was completely emotionally gutted and yet for the first time since Christmas, he felt at peace with himself. Too tired to run and with no place to go, it was time for him to stop fighting, and just accept where fate placed him.

"Do you truly want the child, lad? You reek of magic and Compulsions," Sasha softly questioned. "Answer true."

"Yes, I want her," he admitted. "How could I not want part of him that's only mine? I ran only because he was furious with me, rightfully angry that _**I**_ was the vessel for his child. I'm not the proper sort for a miracle like this. My only worth to him was being a spy. I can't teach, I can't spy, I can't do a damn thing; I can't even carry her to term… He promised that he'd take care of me, he bribed me with presents, and then after I agreed to the Bonding, he reneged. I do not blame him; as I'm tainted… soiled…not the proper vessel at all. He wants to save his daughter from my corruption. She'll never know about me, never know how much I wanted her…It's for the best, you know… It is…"

"Dumbledore is bloody arse who most assuredly doesn't belong on the pedestal you insist on placing him," Sasha stated with firm conviction. "Sooner you realize it and knock him off it; the better it will be for you."

Oxana shook her head at the sheer romantic obtuseness of Sasha. How could Sasha fail to see that Severus was deeply enamored with Albus?

"Why did he do that?" Oxana softly questioned. "Why all the bribes then?"

"It's Wizardry law. When Albus proposed the Bonding, he acknowledged that child was his. He can gain custody now as Adrik, by agreeing to their Bonding, confirmed that he is the father. In fact, if he can prove that Adrik is a danger to himself and the child, Albus can have him committed to a medical facility until the child is born," explained Sasha. "Adrik, you are in a great deal of trouble."

"It's not a surprise that you panicked during your Reiki session with Sasha as you've been Charmed to respond that way." Oxana finally stated. "Some of the rituals they performed on you will make it extremely difficult for you to ever be comfortable being touched."

There was a long, drawn out silence and then Sasha sighed.

"You're a bloody pawn. They deliberately damaged you and let you escape. The child was intentionally engendered to weaken you, necessitating Dumbledore to magically support you. What a horribly brilliant and utterly twisted plan it is. Their goal to distract Dumbledore also explains why Severus is popping up everywhere," rumbled Sasha.

"I'm _**what**_?" Severus questioned.

"There were six sightings of you this morning. The newsreaders on the telly are having bloody orgasms from sheer excitement as everyone's panicking. There's rioting in the streets, strident demands for resignations and all sorts of chaos. The Muggle police are looking for you which mean that Aurors, Dumbledore's people and the Dark Lord's people are no doubt in merry pursuit. You, my dear boy, are wanted by a great many people, none of whom I would entrust to change Grisha's kitty litter."

Sasha stretched like a cat, popped his neck and then cracked his fingers.

"It's another Wizarding war," Oxana whispered. "We're in the midst of it, Sasha."

"I'll leave," Severus quickly offered. "You don't need to get involved."

Where the hell could he go?

"It's a noble sentiment, but it's too bloody late, we're already involved and no one will look kindly on our participation. Here's the game plan. Oxana, I'm afraid that you'll be running the shop for the next few days. I'll be busy with Adrik so I might forget to eat or sleep. You'll need to make sure I do as Adrik will be rather displeased if I physically collapse during his treatment. Adrik, I'm sure you've become accustomed to your face, but it's long past time to change it," Sasha stated. "It's too damn recognizable. After I change your face, we'll have to work on your damn posture, it's too bloody rigid. You need to slouch!"

"Make his hair curly, and give him your cheekbones," Oxana suggested. "We can pass him off as your grand-nephew or something like that. We can claim he was in a lorry accident and then sent on to us as he's not quite right in the head. I don't think you've had much experience with Manchester Muggles, Adrik, so if you act noticeably odd, we can always blame it on that. If anyone talks to you, mumble something about Becks and Manchester United."

"Becks? Manchester United?" Severus questioned. "What are they?"

They answered him not as they were too busy discussing their plan to make him disappear.

"I've constructed the splint, the potions have been brewed and I've set up the room. Very well, Oxana, take Adrik to the room, medicate him and I'll join you shortly. I need to get rid of our one-armed man and replace him with my grand-nephew. Welcome to the family, Adrik."

"Does this mean that I can call you Great Auntie Oxana?" Severus questioned.

"I'm _**not**_ that old," Oxana snapped. "And don't even think of calling me Auntie Ox, I will not stand for that!"

* * *

As the days after Severus' second disappearance turned into a fortnight and then a month, Minerva kept her eyes firmly on Albus Dumbledore. The strain of being the Headmaster of Hogwarts, leading the Order of the Phoenix in the war against You Know Who and the disappearance of Severus weighed heavily on the older mage. Instead of his normally forceful and energetic personality, an obviously drained Albus had become indecisive and hesitant.

The Order was grumbling over the change in Albus. Only Mad Eye was brave enough to openly voice his concern that Albus was focusing too much on Severus' disappearance instead of the war at hand.

"The lap dog has gone back to his Master, Albus. You need to stop wasting our limited personnel on these Severus sightings. Let the Aurors get him, if it is actually HIM, and send him to Azkaban," Moody insisted. "I'm tired of chasing down Severus to find out that's just a bloody Muggle. You need to focus on the war, Albus, not on your turncoat."

A few of the more foolhardy members, encouraged by Moody voicing what they secretly felt, nodded their heads in agreement. Albus then looked at each Order member, judging how they reacted. Sirius was in agreement, Remus looked uneasy; Arthur's face was impassive…

Finally, he glanced at Minerva. He looked so weary that her heart nearly broke.

"Do you agree with Alastor?" Albus softly questioned.

"I most assuredly do _**not**_," she firmly stated. "If Alastor is too old, and yearns to stay next to the fire to rest his aching bones instead of searching for Severus, you will send me in his place."

As expected, Alastor roared a protest, and the Order meeting disintegrated into complete chaos. Accusations were raised, names were called, and disparagements and character assassinations were flung with wild abandonment.

Finally, the mild-mannered Arthur Weasley had enough. He stood up and loudly spoke. As he was suitably trained orator, being a father of seven children, his voice cut through the noise.

"I'm sure You Know Who did this _**deliberately**_. He discovered that Severus was loyal to Albus and broke him. He then let Severus escape, so Albus would have to deal with the wreckage. No doubt Severus was thoroughly indoctrinated with the mistaken belief that since he was no longer able to spy for Albus that he'd be no further use to the Order and that Albus would return him post-haste to Azkaban. No wonder he fled, because after all he's done, the lives he has saved, he knew how he would be treated and we're supposed to be the Good Guys! Yes, I don't particularly care for him but we were all working toward the same goal. Albus, you will notify me the next time there is a Severus sighting as I _**will**_ go!"

He slammed his hand on the table and then sat down.

"I'll go," Aberforth offered. He intently stared at his brother and shook his head. "There's something you're not telling us, something you're hiding. One of your grand and glorious plans has gone all pear-shaped, hasn't it?"

"I have complete faith in Severus. My trust in him has not wavered once," Albus calmly stated. "That's all about which the Order needs to be concerned."

Assorted Order members inserted their two sickles into the discussion but Albus quickly called the meeting to a close. Minerva was waiting for him to leave when Albus stopped to speak with Dora Lupin.

"So, how are you feeling?" Albus softly questioned.

Dora patted her belly while the proud father-to-be Remus beamed.

"Wonderful," she assured Albus. She shushed Remus when he barked a laugh.

"Your husband seems to disagree," Albus prompted.

"Since she conceived on New Year's Day," Remus stated, ignoring a poke in his ribs from his wife. "I think that is why she's so morning sick as she was quite hung over."

"First three months are the worst," Dora explained. "Least that is what my Mum assures me. We'll be hitting the three month mark next week, so I expect the nausea to immediately cease. You do understand that, don't you?"

Dora warmly spoke to her belly, and Remus shook his head.

"She talks to her belly all the time. I fear the day it will answer her," he admitted.

"Arthur informs me that this is a special time for a husband and wife, so if you need anything, let me know," Albus offered. "I know they haven't increased the Auror salary in years, and a teacher's salary is even worse. If you have need of anything, you'll let me know, please."

He made small talk with the Lupins for a bit, and then only after the Lupins left did he realize that Minerva was still in the room. Albus grinned at her, a rather shaky smile.

"He's three months along now," he informed her in a shaky tone. "Fortunately, I see our lovely Dora enough that I can guesstimate how Severus is progressing. I'm sure by now that he needs new clothes as Dora eagerly modeled her new maternity clothes last week. I hope... that he has... them."

His eyes were quite moist and he made a great deal of noise shuffling papers that truly didn't need to be shuffled.

"I should have given him space," he softly admitted. "I just wanted to make everything right for him; instead, everything's gone all pear shaped, Min. The Order is rebelling; Alastor and Sirius will convince more of the others to stop joining in our searches for Severus and… I _**have**_ to find him, Minerva. He's out there, Min, and we must find him before Voldemort and the Aurors do."

"I know," she stated.

Albus glanced at her and shook his head.

"That was a cue for you to tell me, 'I told you so!'" Albus explained.

"You're self-flagellating yourself so thoroughly I fail to see the need why I should break into a sweat." Minerva tartly quipped.

"Minerva," was all he said, but she heard his appreciation for her.

They returned to Hogwarts before he spoke once more.

"Care to join me for dinner in my quarters? I'm not up to dealing with the noise of the Great Hall," he softly confessed. "Please say yes, I'd like not to be alone with my dark thoughts."

"I'd love to," she admitted. "But I have other plans for dinner. The Lupins, Pomona and Rolanda have promised to keep an eye on the students."

"Slipping out with Horace, are you? I've noticed that you and Horace seem… cozy," Albus slyly stated. "Fawkes shared with me the most interesting scandal. You were snogging with Horace in the Great Hall?"

She had easily recruited Horace and Poppy into Filius' plans, and a rather eager Horace had taken to squiring her around Hogwarts in order to promote the idea that they had rekindled their affair. For good measure, he even backed her into a corner and energetically snogged her in front of a stunned Rolanda Hooch. For that stunt, he had nearly earned a Hex until she had decided it would be far better just to snog him right back. Tonight, the two of them were making the first attempt at Filius' Locating Severus Spell and she had no bloody idea how well it would work.

"With everything that has happened recently, I thought I'd make use of Horace's Bon Vivant Spirit as a pick me up," Minerva explained. "He's promised to take me some place quite exciting."

"I'm glad for you, Min," Albus stated. "Though if I catch you and Horace snogging in the Great Hall, I will be required to take points from both your Houses."

"You did that to me when I was Head Girl," Minerva protested. "But I don't believe you can penalize Houses for the actions of their teachers."

For the first time in far too long, she saw a real smile on Albus' face.

"Try me," he retorted. "You might be surprised what I can do."

* * *

His dreams were multi-colored extravaganzas of complete and utter nonsense. In some, he was awkwardly dancing with a smiling Albus who was tenderly cosseting him. In others, he pushed a giggling Ari on her damn swing until his arms protested and still he continued to push her still higher and higher. When the dark dreams attempted to overwhelm him with remembered pain and fear, they seemed to be thwarted by a barrier.

He had drifted from such a dream where the combined forces of the Order of the Phoenix, the British Aurors and the Death Eaters had been held at bay by a spitting, shrieking blue grey cat when he heard someone speak.

"Time to wake, Adrik," called a female voice.

Carefully, he opened his eyes. He was in a dark room, and two people were watching him. For good measure, there were two blue grey cats peering at him also. It seemed that he was the raree show for this evening.

"Where am I?" It seemed as good a question as any, plus far better than "Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Manchester," said the male. "Do you think you can sit up?"

"I think I can," he said. He struggled a bit, and the female hissed.

"Don't use your left arm," she said. "It's still in bad shape."

"My left arm?" Severus blearily questioned. "I don't have a left arm…"

Gingerly, he pushed himself up on his right arm, and the woman quickly propped pillows behind his back. Merlin's scrote, he had _**boobs **_the size of Pansy Parkinson's breasts! It wasn't proper that he knew the exact size of Pansy's breasts, but he had to deal with that embarrassing accident in her third year. If it had been a Gryffindor that had attempted to increase the size of her breasts, he would have ridiculed them in front of the entire school, but since it was Pansy, he had kept the matter private. Though to keep his reputation intact, he had made her write a thousand lines of "My breasts are not melons, and they should never ever be the size of honeydew melons." He hadn't checked to see if she had actually written all thousand lines because he just couldn't bear mentally reliving the image of Pansy with those melon-sized breasts.

Oh yes, once he got past his manboobs, he did have a large cast on his left arm. He even had fingernails on his left fingers. Proper fingernails! His fingers even _**wiggled**_!

"Well, now you do," proudly stated the man. "It worked even better than those idiots in _Mages Medizinische Monatszeitschrift _said it would. It was sheer genius on my part to decide to ignore their instructions. I should send an owl to _Mages Medizinische Monatszeitschrift _and remind them of the correct way to filtrate."

"Yes, they're definitely post a correction from _**you**_," snapped the female. "I'll put out the welcome mat for your fan club."

Now he remembered where he was. Sasha. Oxana. Grisha and Nadya.

"Sasha, Oxana? How long have I been in treatment?" Severus questioned.

"About a month," Sasha admitted. "We fed you and the babe. She seemed to delightedly growing whenever we checked in on her."

"I'll say she has grown," Severus snarked. He rubbed his temple with his right hand, and he realized that he now had curly hair. "What have you done with my hair?"

"We changed your appearance," Oxana reminded him. "You and Sasha could be related now, which was the idea."

Uncertain of his reaction, they were reluctant to bring his mirror, but at last, he won the argument. His long hair was heavily streaked with gray and it was curly. Not just wavy, but curly like Sasha's hair. He even had a shortly cropped salt and pepper beard to match but it was his facial features that had changed the most.

He looked like Sasha's illegitimate son only with dark eyes. The cheekbones were the Bulgarian's mage, and his hook nose had been modified. Severus took an experimental sniff and he realized that Sasha had even fixed his deviated septum. Poppy had been after him for years to allow her to fix it, but he had a real phobia of someone putting their wand up his nose.

"She's alright?" Severus softly questioned. "This… modification… didn't adversely affect her, did it?"

"Yes, she's fine, Adrik." Sasha assured her.

"Thank you," he whispered. It was all he could say, and so insufficient.

"Since you've been having a nice long lie-in, you need to get out of bed. We've got new clothes for you, even proper shoes, so we're going out to dinner. There's a new place I'd like to try. It's located on the Curry Mile," Oxana explained. "This way we can see how well your disguise works."

"You start working in the shop tomorrow," Sasha added in a very strict tone. "Tonight's your last free meal, so eat hearty. I plan on getting my money's worth out of you."

Sasha helped him get washed and dressed, and Severus was surprised by how snug his trousers were. Everything zipped and buttoned, but they were tight. Fortunately, it was mid March so he could wear one of Sasha's oversized jumpers that successfully hid his belly. That done, his left arm was carefully placed in a sling.

"Things are progressing," was Sasha's offhanded response when Severus tugged at his waistband. "Like they're supposed to do in such matters. I'm Charm it when it gets noticeable, don't you worry. On the way back, we'll stop at Oxfam and see if we can find better fitting clothes. They're a Muggle charity shop, so we might have to rummage to find something that fits."

"It's coming out of my future paycheck, right?" Severus softly questioned.

"Damn right, they're the charity shop, not me," Sasha easily agreed. "Come on, Curry Mile awaits. I'm feeling festive, so we'll take a black cab."

* * *

Minerva tightly grasped Horace's hand.

"Ready?" She needlessly asked.

"Yes," Horace quickly assured her. "Wand on the ready!"

She cast the spell, and the two of them landed in dark alley which opened onto a street chock full of restaurants. It was loud and noisy, and Horace hustled her out of the alleyway.

"Saki Turkish Bar and Pizzeria? The Pink Garlic Indian and Chinese Restaurant? Cinnamon?" Horace questioned. "Where the bloody hell are we? Are we in the Colonies?"

Minerva clutched the medallion in her hand. According to Filius, it would help lead her to Severus.

"Which way do we go?" She silently asked. "Where do we go from here?"

The medallion stirred once in her hand, and then stopped.

Bloody hell, where the hell was Severus?

* * *

A/N # 2 - Saki Turkish Bar and Pizzeria, The Pink Garlic Indian and Chinese Restaurant and Cinnamon were all located on the Curry Mile at one time or another. The _**Curry Mile**_ is a nickname for the part of Wilmslow Road running through Rusholme in Manchester, England. The name is earned from the large number of South Asian restaurants along the road, thought to be the largest concentration outside of the Indian subcontinent. Although less than a mile the road boasts at least seventy restaurants, take-aways and kebab houses. (thanks to wikipedia for that!)

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

A/N # 1 – Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

A/N # 2 - No underaged goats were used in this chapter. A few O/C show up in this chapter, and then they'll disappear for a bit. Be patient, there's a reason why they're being introduced, and no, they won't be having sex with any of JKR's characters. ;D

A/N # 3 - Thnxs to Linze and MyMadness for their suggestions.

* * *

Gellert Grindelwald patiently waited and watched the skies. Let his gaolers mock him for staring at the world outside his cell, for they had no idea for what he was truly watching. When it came, it arrived on silent wings during the darkest part of the night when his oh so attentive guards' eyes were heavy-lidded.

Carefully, he reached his hand out of his cell, and he managed to brush the Eastern Imperial Eagle with his fingertips. For this spell, he needed only the barest contact with the Eagle's feather to pass on his warning.

The message given to Snezhana's familiar, Gellert returned to his bed.

_**Warn them. Warn them all, my dear Snezhana. **_

He had done what he could for his faithful followers and he knew that the sharp-eyed witch would warn the Brotherhood. Unlike the Great and Noble Albus Dumbledore, once Gellert's loyalty was given, it remained given.

_**Dami, I wonder what you have done to earn Albus Dumbledore's interest. Be wary, my dear friend, as he is searching for you and he is nothing if not determined. **_

* * *

Albus politely requested that a meal be brought to his quarters and after picking at it for a bit, he presented it to Fawkes for his enjoyment The grateful Phoenix tucked right in, eating the choicest portions and then he hopped over to his mage who seem pensive and in need of cheering.

"I've been having the strangest dreams," Albus informed his familiar. His long, limber fingers began scratching Fawkes in that one itchy spot that always drove the Phoenix barmy. "In them, I'm instructing Severus how to dance, and it's not going at _**all**_ well. For someone with such agile hands… hand… he possesses an abundance of left feet."

Fawkes crooned a suitable response, gently chastising his Mage's less than charitable attitude.

"Yes, patience is a necessary virtue for a dance instructor," Albus agreed. "But the fact that I'm attempting to prevent an extremely uncoordinated Severus from crushing my toes isn't the strangest part of my dreams. He's wearing a _**full**_ beard."

A questioning trill from the somnolent Fawkes was his familiar's only response.

"Not a proper beard like mine," Albus admitted. "But he's always been clean-shaved. He also has extremely curly hair. He looks different, but I know that it's Severus because of his dark eyes. They peer into my soul, judge me and find me utterly inadequate."

The itch scratched into submission, Albus began to gently stroke his Phoenix .

"I'm guilty as charged, I'm afraid. Guilty of further traumatizing him, culpable of forcing him to handle the situation the way I deemed best, responsible for convincing him of my supposed anger towards him and accountable for a thousand other things. Never-the-less, it's imperative that I find him, Fawkes, before the Aurors and Voldemort do," Albus vowed. "Once I find him, the first thing I'll do is gently wrap him in swaddling and hand him over to Minerva's tender mercies. He'll need his own chambers then, as it wouldn't be proper to have him staying in Minerva's quarters. Perhaps, I can sweet talk the castle into allowing an extension for him so he's located right next to Minerva. Then, that done, I'll _**Confine**_ him to Hogwarts until next December at the earliest."

After Albus paid him his Phoenixy due, Fawkes decided it was time for bed and flew to his nest, quietly chiding Albus for not joining him. How could Fawkes be expected to sleep if his Mage was still awake? Yes, it was still light outside, but Fawkes was tired after a very exhausting day of being bright and beautiful.

Albus ignored Fawkes' gentle censure, as he had an afghan that needed to be finished. It was knit of the palest green and lightest silver vicuna wool and quite soft to touch. He had paid a great many galleons to acquire enough yarn for the afghan and then still more to have the spicy cinnamon colored yarn charmed into Slytherin colors.

"Perhaps I can start the booties tonight?" Albus wondered. "No, I should start on the dress. I have the emerald green yarn and the pattern's rather complicated."

* * *

It was complete and utter bedlam on Curry Mile. Sasha and Oxana seemed completely unperturbed by the milling mayhem, but a jumpy Severus could only admire their equanimity. Waiters were on the sidewalks, loudly cajoling the passersbys into visiting their restaurants.

"_We have the best curry outside of Mumbai!" _

He got jostled once or twice and instinctively, he reached for his wand that wasn't there for protection. Sasha had steadfastly refused to give him back his wand. One couldn't really blame Sasha for his reluctance as Severus _had_ attempted to magically murder him. But Severus was missing the comforting, familiar weight of his wand as there was an ever-increasing, swelling terror in his soul, as though someone was diligently searching for him. It must be his overactive imagination, as Severus repeatedly reminded himself as he attempted to calm his increasing paranoia.

_**How could anyone find me in this clangorous, caterwauling, cacophony cauldron of complete curry chaos? I doubt the Dark Lord has developed an unexplained craving for Paneer Pakor, Naan and Chicken Nehari and has sent Peter Pettigrew out for takeaway!**_

"Easy," rumbled Sasha. "Only a few more minutes, as we're almost there. Try to stay in your skin as you look like you're about to kittens. Speaking of which, I do hope Nadya and Grisha behave while we're gone as I don't want to deal with a litter of kittens in two months. I put her on birthbane but where's there's a penis, there's always the strong possibility of kittens."

Severus wearily nodded his head, not wanting to remark on the fact that while Grisha was quite enthused with his new friend, Nadya didn't return the sentiment. He'd been a teacher at a boarding school long enough to know how that usually turned out.

If given a choice, he would have much preferred to have stayed in bed, but that hadn't been an option. Actually, it had been a selection, as long as he didn't mind that dinner would not be served to the invalid. More importantly, he could have had a nice lie in if he dared risk Sasha's annoyance for not being a happy, clappy houseguest. Oxana had thought it would be a delightful experience for him to go to Curry Mile after all his time in bed, and therefore, since Oxana had suggested it, Sasha believed that Severus should eagerly treat this culinary calamity as a true adventure.

Bloody hell, hadn't they ever heard of takeaway? He had even heard of places that delivered the food to one's door. Why drag him out _**here**_ except to prove to Severus that his disguise was perfect? During the course of their travels from the shop to the Cursed Curry Mile, Severus had seen several extremely unflattering pictures of his former appearance plastered on the front page of "The Guardian", "The Manchester Times" and a half dozen other rags that Oxana had insisted purchasing at a Muggle newsstand. His Azkaban booking photo was even on the front page of "The Daily Prophet" where the image Severus screamed and fought while the guards restrained him. That sight stirred unpleasant thoughts to the surface as he reflected on Ari suffering in Azkaban.  
_**  
No, the Headmaster wouldn't allow them to return me there until after she's born as the sprog wouldn't survive the ordeal. He'll Confine me to Hogwarts, and I won't be able to leave the grounds unless he gives permission. **_

It seemed that greasy git Severus Snape was quite the drifter these days as that dangerous Madman Severus Snape was bloody popping up _**everywhere**_. London, Surrey, Bristol, Glasgow, Galway, Newcastle Upon Tyne…

Severus remembered once more his time in Azkaban, and he couldn't help but shiver. He would be howling at the moon mad within a week if Ministry put him back into that nightmare. To ensure that he wasn't in arrears for his mother's hospice care, he had broken his parole … didn't that rate some leniency?

Any clemency would be negated by the inescapable truth that he willingly stayed with _**Damyan Draganov**_ instead of returning back to Hogwarts, tail between his legs, like a whipped cur.

_**Yet, he's the only one that believes he can get Ari to term. Poppy believed that I needed to be shipped to St. Mungo's posthaste. I couldn't go there, as I wouldn't be safe there… Just ask Broderick Bode, who received a nice Devil's Snare pot plant as a "Don't Get Well Soon" gift from the Dark Lord. Plus the Headmaster's shame would be on the front page on The Daily Prophet, as my expectant condition would be rather quickly leaked. **_

_**It's time to stop whinging, and deal with the hand I have been dealt.**_

"Your ch'i flow is crimped, which is why you're so on edge. Once we get it stabilized and flowing properly, you'll be able to relax," Sasha reminded him. "Oxana will be administering another Reiki treatment tomorrow. She's quite talented at Reiki."

Dutifully, Severus nodded his head, and wearily, he put one foot in front of the other. Bloody hell, they should call this place the Curry Marathon, as the bloody street wasn't a mere mile long, it stretched on and on into infinity.

"We're here," Oxana finally announced. "Looks crowded; let me see if we can get a spot."

Sasha protectively hovered next to Severus, ensuring that he was jostled by the maddening crowd rather than Severus.

"Keep moving the arm," Sasha ordered. "You've been wiggling your fingers ever so often? The nerves are regenerating, so it will hurt, but you need to do it. Remember, I laid the foundation, how much function you regain depends completely on you."

Severus wiggled his fingers in painful acknowledgement and Sasha beamed a grin.

"I do good work," Sasha proudly stated. "There are less than a dozen people that could give you your arm back and none…. _**NONE**_ of them… would have you with that range of motion so soon! How I wish I could write a paper! No one would believe me and then the furious protests would begin. I was _**published**_, you know, in several major periodicals. I had quite the reputation as an innovative Healer-Surgeon. People would come from _**everywhere**_ for my opinion."

As required, Severus made the appropriate appreciative noises while Sasha grinned like a proud papa. Severus had heard Sasha's speech only twice, but he rather dreaded the part where the despondent Sasha remembered that no one particularly cared for his opinion these days. What could Severus say to a man who had lost his family, his reputation and his sanity in one fell swoop?

_**All his pretty ones? Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? What, his pretty chicken and her dam at one fell swoop?**_

"Good news, Razz is working tonight. He'll get us right in, and I requested a private spot as poor Adrik looks as though he's overwhelmed by the noise," Oxana assured him when she returned.

Abd-al-Razzaq was an older, bright-eyed Pakistani who appeared quite taken by Oxana while being quite respectful of Sasha.

"Yes, I have a private room for you," he assured her. "Your guests are already there and your dinner should be ready shortly. My family is quite delighted that you decided to eat at our new venture, so we're preparing quite a magnificent feast for you. Welcome, my dear friends, to The Alamgiri Gate."

"That's quite kind of you, Razz, and I'm positive that your dinner will be a marvel. Our guests are here _**already**_, Sasha. How many of them showed, Razz? They were simply dreadful and they didn't Répondez s'il vous plait like I requested," Oxana's tone conveyed her extreme disappointment at her guests' rudeness.

Severus noticed that both Oxana and Sasha had gone on high alert, and Sasha had taken point, leaving him buffered by Oxana. He was in the _middle_ and absolutely bloody defenseless. He wasn't hearty enough to even attempt to perform the most basic of wandless magic.

"Two showed, and I must admit that I was quite confused when they arrived. One is a very forceful female and the gentleman is quite the gourmet as he requested a Rooh Afza with a twist. Forgive me, but they _**insisted**_ on joining your party. I knew you had only requested a quiet spot for three, but they were most adamant that they were part of your party. He is?" Razz politely asked, his dark eyes darting toward Severus and then back toward Sasha.

"Aleksandar's grand nephew. Adrik's staying with us for a bit until he gets back on his feet," Oxana carefully offered.

"Your uncle is a remarkable man. I credit him for saving my mother's life," Razz cheerfully explained. "He was willing to honor her request for traditional healing."

"Yes, I have often had the benefit of Aleksandar's extensive knowledge," Severus dryly admitted. "I doubt that I would be standing here if it wasn't for him."

"Tosh! You're embarrassing me," protested a bashful Sasha.

Razz showed them to the door of the private room, then quickly disappeared. Sasha held up one finger.

"I open the door then I go in. Anything happens… Rada…" he instructed Oxana as he completely dismissed Severus' aid as inconsequential.

"I know," muttered Oxana. "I run like hell, barricade the two of us in the shop until Adrik can be extricated and then the two of us plus the two fuzzies are Paradise bound. Any idea on which old girlfriend of yours might be looking for you because you're arrears in child support?"

Sasha's green eyes shifted so slightly toward Severus that he almost didn't catch the gesture. Severus would have to weasel the information out of Oxana later.

"Yes, it could be her based on Razz's description, but the odds are so long as to be doubtful. How would she know you were here with him?" Oxana intently questioned. "But pull your wand if it is her. Stun, don't kill as Razz doesn't need the plod here. We can Obliviate and send her on her way."

A curt nod of Sasha's head was the Dark Wizard's only response and then he put his hand on the door. His lips moved as he mouthed a spell. For a moment he appeared perplexed when the spell resolved, and then he shook his head.

"Oh for the love of little blue grey furballs named Grisha and Nadya, what the hell are those two doing here?" Sasha growled. "My bloody _**cell**_ is here. Quick words of advice, Adrik, keep your mouth shut, do not volunteer any information especially about you know what and you know them. If that plan doesn't work, appear quite confused. The look you're wearing now? _**Perfect**_."

Sasha opened the door and stormed in. There was a loud sound of exuberant greetings from the room and Severus looked to Oxana for guidance. Bloody hell, whoever they were, they were _**friends**_ of Damyan?

"I don't understand," Severus admitted to Oxana. He might as well get it bloody tattooed on his head, maybe that way he'd stop saying it.

"You're about to meet two of Sasha's old friends. They're _**dangerous**_, but there were two types that joined Gellert's Glorious Revolution. These two genuinely wanted to make the world a better place, unfortunately by whatever means necessary, and then there were those like Sasha."

Severus looked at her, wanting more information on his benefactor and she sighed.

"He wanted to watch the world burn. His favorite saying was 'Destruction, hence, like creation, is one of Nature's mandates'," she quoted. "His treatment by the Bulgarian Aurors left him slightly unhinged. They Collared and Cuffed him before they Boxed him, which is why he's a touch claustrophobic."

The Collar and the Cuffs were used to completely restrain a magical prisoner, but to put him in the Box? To be placed in solitary confinement with no light and no sound, while also being completely restrained except for your racing thoughts? No wonder Damyan had gone utterly astray in his head.

At Severus' alarmed look, Oxana quickly added, "You can see that he's _**much**_ better now."

"Destruction as a _**mandate**_?" Severus dryly retorted.

The witch sighed before she began to explain, "Marquis de Sade? You can't tell me that you weren't required to take any philosophical courses at your fine institution of higher learning? Careful, they're both highly educated and quite proud. Don't insult them, as they'll wipe the floor with you. I don't know why the bloody hell they're _**HERE**_. The organization of the Brotherhood is cells, three people usually. The leader of the cell knows how to locate someone in a cell below and above him or her. There are only two people that know where everyone is located. If Sasha didn't tell them to meet him here, then one of those two higher-ups called this meeting as cells don't get together for a cheery chinwag over stout and crisps."

* * *

Severus wasn't sure what to expect when he entered the room. Two Dark Wizards, both rumored to be quite dead, certainly, but he wouldn't have expected the rather prickly and aloof Sasha to be warmly embracing them. But that is what he found when he entered the room. When the trio of Dark Wizards finally disengaged themselves, Severus was able to sort them out. One was an extremely tall wizard, a head and shoulder above the not-particularly short Sasha. He had closed cropped white hair and he wore an eye patch over his missing right eye. The darkly tanned witch was shorter, but still tall for a female. Her short, bristly hair was more silver than gold and she had a fierce expression on her face.

He prayed that they didn't see his tremor of fear when he recognized them.

_**Ari, I've fallen into dangerous company, Toma Filipov and Rada Dafovska! Perhaps it would have been safer for you I had stayed with your father. These two oversaw the Siege of Leningrad! Your father would be furious if he only knew what dangerous company I've been keeping…**_

"I was told to meet you here," the witch tersely stated. Her voice was exotic as it was a mixture of assorted accents. "I see you've brought two of your strays. Where's the boy's wife?"

_**I'm married?**_ Severus looked quickly at Oxana who gave him only the slightest nod of her head.

"Home," Sasha explained. "She and the child weren't feeling up to spicy food, so she's home. But you were both told to meet me here?"

"This room has been thoroughly warded, so let us speak freely, using our real names. Damyan, please be so kind enough to introduce us to your… great nephew… Adrik," the witch requested. She reached for Severus, grabbed his face by his chin and then pulled his face this way and that in order to closely inspect it. Rada nodded her head in approval. "Toma, you must agree that he does look a great deal like Adrik."

_**Who is Adrik**_? Severus wondered and Oxana shook her head. _**She doesn't know either?**_

"Yes, his appearance is quite similar to Adrik, Rada," Toma agreed.

"His bone structure was similar, and it's easier to Build an Appearance if the caster can mentally visualize it," Sasha explained. "No one in this bloody country would have any idea what Adrik looked like, so I thought it would be safe."

"Agreed, but let us focus on the important matter that you _**didn't**_ request that we join you here?" Rada intently questioned. "I received a note that said that you desired a meeting and this was the location."

"I was also under the mistaken impression that you had sent me the invitation," Toma growled. "You _**didn't**_?"

"No, I didn't. I left information on where we were heading for dinner in case it was necessary to contact me. We took public transportation, so we have been gone from the shop for over an hour. That means…" Damyan ceased talking and then turned towards the closed door.

Rada shook her head, and then held up her hand.

"A mage has just entered the restaurant," she whispered. She then sniffed. "I smell the faintest whiff of Aloeswood."  
_**  
Japanese Incense? She smelled Japanese Incense midst of all the pungent aromas in a Curry Bar? Merlin's scrote, the witch's nose must be quite keen!  
**_

"Well, this is a sticky wicket, it appears that we're up for deletion," Toma calmly stated. "The cell gets called together under mysterious circumstances and then we're all conveniently removed. When the door opens, it will be Byakko sent to dispatch us to the Afterlife."

"I concur," Rada agreed. "Byakko's wand is Aloeswood."

"It has been an honor, Rada and Damyan. I regret that I will not get to know you better, Ekaterina, perhaps your opinion of me might have improved. Adrik, have consolation that at least your wife and child will live on. Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us, our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life."

Having spoken his peace, the burly wizard removed his wand from its hiding spot and he placed it on the table.

"I hope Byakko will let me finish my drink first," Toma then dryly quipped. He raised his drink. "Death never takes the wise soul by surprise; one is always ready to go."

Sasha quickly grabbed a glass for the toast. The three wizards clinked their glasses together and then drank.

"Let it be said that I met my death with dignity," Rada calmly stated as she also placed her slender wand next to Toma's ebony wand. "To die with honor when it is no longer possible to live proudly. Death of one's own free choice, death at the proper time, with a clear head and with joyfulness. I am content."

Sasha placed his wand on the table and nodded. "I'm afraid I can't think of anything poetic to steal so I can utter them as my final words of wisdom. Alas, that's all, folks, doesn't carry much gravity."

"Oxana?" Severus questioned. This was madness! The three Dark Wizards had toasted their deaths and were now calmly waiting to be 'removed'. If had been one of the Death Eaters, they would be fighting until their very last breath.

"We can't Side-along Apparate, as you wouldn't survive it in your current condition, and I'm certainly not running, leaving you two here. Stand behind me, and I'll attack Byakko," Oxana tersely explained. "He'll easily take me out, but you run like _**hell**_, boy. I don't know anyone besides Sasha that can help you, I'm afraid, but I pray that you'll find someone."

"You don't need to attack Byakko; he's just here for the three of us," Sasha easily explained. "He knows the current situation and you and the rest will be set up someplace new."

_**Bloody hell is my current condition the subject of everyone's conversation? Ari is a personal, private matter! **_

"There's someone at the door," Toma whispered.

The door swung open and an older Japanese man stepped into the room. Ignoring the increasing tension in the room, he slightly smiled, bowed once and said, "Konbanwa!"

He was quite surprised to find Oxana's wand at his throat when he straightened from his bow.

"Hello, Oxana. Would you mind removing your wand from my neck?" the Japanese man politely requested. His cold, dark eyes flickered from the various people in the room and then his eyes focused on the three wands on the table. "Oh my goodness, I'm not here to _**delete**_ your cell. Snezhana needed to get a message to you three and I thought it would delightful to meet up for dinner. It's been a good five years since I saw the three of you together."

Oxana had not moved her wand the slightest, and Byakko repeated, "Oxana? Could you please remove your wand from my neck?"

Oxana looked at Sasha who nodded his head. She warily put her wand away, and then the Japanese mage smiled.

"I assume that this is Adrik? I am Ishikawa Byakko, please, call me Byakko. We'll talk about the reason why I brought you together after dinner. I haven't had good Pakistani food in so long," Byakko admitted. "Do you know if they serve Badam Ki Barfi?"

* * *

With Sasha on one side and Oxana on his other, Severus felt as safe as was possible in the situation. The Dark Wizards Chinwag didn't require his input, so he was content to merely slip further into himself. The world around him seemed to fade, and he felt like he was watching a pickie. Lily's parents had taken her ragamuffin friend to a matinee once, and he had stared transfixed at the screen. That's exactly how he felt now.

Derealization, Oxana called it.

Whatever it was called, it was a blessed relief, as he preferred to feel numb rather than terrified. By all rights, he _**should**_ be petrified as he was dining with some of the most dangerous Wizards known to Magickind. Yes, he had often broken bread with his fellow Death Eaters, but the legends surrounding these particular individuals made Bellatrix LeStrange look like a petulant child. And the fact that the slight Japanese mage was deemed capable of single-handedly executing the unholy trinity of Damyan, Toma and Rada meant that Severus was absobloodylutely in a hell of a lot of trouble.

If the Headmaster found him and saw him sitting here with his newfound friends, he'd be _**furious**_ with Severus for needlessly risking Ari.

No. He couldn't think of that as he'd obsess on that thought until his soul bled. He needed to focus on something besides the presumed reaction of the angry Headmaster. For example, Toma's booming laugh was quite contagious and it seemed the acid tongue Rada was quite the wit. He didn't understand her humor, but even Oxana was laughing. So he tried to listen, tried to comprehend the conversation taking place over and around him, but he just couldn't.

It was the accents, he finally decided. They were so strong… that's why they sounded garbled.

Ari needed him to eat, and so he mechanically ate whatever was put in front of him. Oxana kept his plate full plus she was kind enough to cut his food for him so he shoveled the various delicacies into his mouth. At last, he could eat no more as he was completely stuffed to the brim and he was drifting in a contented, blissful warmth. Let them enjoy their conversation, he was happy merely to float in peace. Oxana protectively put her arm around him and whispered, "Go ahead, it's alright if you doze. You've been ill, they'll understand."

He should stay awake. Constant vigilance! That was the only way to keep Ari….safe… Must keep his eyes… open… yet Oxana was there…he could trust her… because he had to trust her…

* * *

"He's out cold," Oxana softly announced. "He won't wake for thirty minutes."

"Thank you," Byakko said. "The reason why I called this meeting is because of him. Snezhana was finally able to get a coherent message from Gellert. It seems almost five weeks ago, Albus Dumbledore paid an impromptu visit to Gellert. His line of questioning was unclear, but Gellert has reason to believe that you have attracted his interest, Damyan. Gellert believes and Snezhana concurs that Albus Dumbledore is searching for you."

"Probably because of your strays," Rada inserted. There was no bitterness in her tone, just serene acceptance. "Why did you take him in, Damyan?"

"It amused me to do so," Damyan calmly retorted.

"Oh yes, and indulging your amusement is paramount among our concerns," Toma drawled. "What happened to him exactly? If you look at the boy's eyes, you can see that Adrik's been out with the fairies too long, if you know what I mean. If Oxana hadn't put the food on his plate, he wouldn't have tucked into our little feast. Damaged and gutted, that's what he is. Damyan, _**charity**_? Your well earned reputation will be in _**shreds**_ if the rumors start spreading that you're actually merciful and compassionate. Please, don't tell me that you've gone _**SOFT**_, Damyan, I'll start believing in Father Christmas first!"

Rada barked a harsh laugh and even Byakko smiled.

"Adrik was a triple agent in the current struggles between Albus and this era's Dark Lord. He and his family ended up worst for the deal, so they took flight. I found them in the alley outside my shop of all places, as they had done a Blind Jump to escape," Damyan explained.

"A Blind Jump?" A impressed Rada then whistled her amazement. "Merlin was smiling upon him else there would be bits and bobs of them all over the alleyway."

"Yes, I was rather impressed by the sheer amount of desperation needed to Blind Jump. I then offered them sanctuary as I believe that is a great deal of potential in Adrik. He's a Potions Master and has created several new Charms that are in use in the current Spell Lexicon. I thought if I treated him and his family with respect that hopefully he'll transfer his loyalty to us," Damyan stated. "There are extenuating circumstances that makes it highly probable that Dumbledore is moving heaven and Earth to get Adrik and his family back. Those same situations make Adrik leery of returning to Dumbledore. He's savvy and informed on the current political atmosphere which is helpful as most of our contacts are decades dead."

Toma and Rada discussed it quietly among themselves and then they agreed that Adrik could be fine addition to the Brotherhood.

"Snezhana agrees with Damyan's reasoning, but the safety of the Brotherhood is paramount. Therefore, I must regretfully inform you that your cell is being expelled from the Brotherhood." Byakko calmly announced the ritual proclamation of banishment from the Brotherhood.

It was a measure of their loyalty that they did not protest Snezhana's decision. Instead they took it with an equanimity that would have surprised Albus or Voldemort as their followers tended to quibble. But for these three, The Botherhood was not just everything, it was _**absolute**_. For the Greater Good of the Brotherhood, they would fall upon their swords.

"_**Temporarily**_! I must assure you of that! Your expulsion is only temporary until we can confirm that you can be safely brought back into the fold," Byakko quickly explained. "Has Adrik been Charmed?"

"If he runs and is picked up by anyone, he'll be unable to reveal anything that he knows. They'll rummage through his mind and they'll find nothing but confusing memories. For good measure, after all their Delving in his mind, they will discover a rather racy bit regarding a completely starkers and rather short-wanded Albus and a much-abused and quite underage goat," Sasha promised.

"Those randy Dumbledore boys and their goats," Rada chuckled. Toma roared his hearty approval and even Oxana quirked a brief smile.

"I hate to interrupt the jolly mood, but there are more bad tidings; we believe that Voldemort has inserted a spy among Gellert's jailers. He might be aware of Dumbledore's interest in you so be wary, Damyan. Snezhana was most insistent that I remind you all that if you need help, you can be assured that the Brotherhood _**will**_ respond," insisted Byakko. His dark eyes narrowed as he glanced at Oxana. "Understand that offer extends to you also, Oxana. Toma, as always, your family will be protected. They've been relocated again and your eldest son has been informed that you have been called away for a few weeks. Fortunately your family hadn't unpacked much, as I swear there were easily a dozen more family members than we had moved yesterday!"

Toma murmured his sincere appreciation for his family's safety.

"Sister Rada? Would you mind putting up my brother Toma at your location until I can welcome you all back into our family?" Byakko requested.

"Always, my home is yours, Toma," The witch assured the wizard.

"Thank you, Rada. Bermuda is simply lovely this time of year, plus it will be nice to have a vacation from the family. They're just so numerous and loud," the one eyed mage happily announced. "Will you and your strays be staying in Manchester, Damyan? Or can we convince you to join our fun in the sand, surf and sun?"

"I can't move my strays yet, as they're too ill to travel though I think the tropical sun would Adrik some good. Byakko, please extend my everlasting and undying appreciation to Snezhana. I greatly value Snezhana's generosity in the matter of defending Oxana," Sasha quickly added as it was obvious to all that Oxana wasn't about to thank Byakko.

"Naturally we would come to her aid, as she is your woman, Damyan," Byakko offhandedly explained.

Oxana's eyes blazed at that rude comment and Rada sighed, "Byakko, in all these years you haven't changed at all."

"'Ware, our stray is waking!" Toma quietly announced. Then in a louder tone, he said. "Adrik, we waited to order the afters until you woke. I understand that the Kheer is a house specialty."

The man known as Adrik sleepily blinked and then nodded his head.

* * *

"We have repeatedly been up and down this street of insanity, Minerva," Horace reminded her as she turned around to march up the street again. "I haven't seen anyone that looks the faintest bit like him, and even you must regretfully admit that Filius' medallion seems to need an upgrade. We kept returning _**here**_, and now it's not responding anymore."

Her students believed that the stern Minerva McGonagall was pragmatic to a fault. She was rumored to be completely without emotion, a medical miracle as she was born without a heart, and many of her students would fall over dead in shock if they only knew that underneath her crusty exterior lurked a kind, sensitive soul.

"I _have_ to find him, Horace," Minerva protested. Her voice was shaky and she wiped her eyes, refusing to let her damning tears fall. "He's in so much trouble."

"I know, I know," Horace gently assured her. "Let's have dinner, Min. You can't help if you collapse, and besides, I can't return you to Hogwarts with you not having eaten. People will talk and the rumors will be scandalous. I don't want to face an angry Albus who believes that I deliberately seduced you and then didn't even bother to feed you. You're well aware that I'm have a well deserved reputation of being a man of many appetites, and I prefer if all my rumored passions are all properly satisfied."

That quip caused Minerva to laugh and she put his hand on his arm. "Let's have dinner, Horace. I have enough Muggle money to pay."

"Madam! I _**insist**_ on paying! You, as the fair maiden, get to chose where we will dine."

She wrapped her arm around his, and the two mages strolled down the street, looking like two slightly eccentric tourists. Glancing at the various restaurants, Minerva felt herself pulled to one spot in particular.

"There," Minerva regally decided. "That is where we will enjoy our dinner. The Alamgiri Gate sounds quite exciting. Will it match your formidable reputation?"

Truly, she was fond of Horace even though there were the frequent occasions when she wouldn't mind strangling him.

"The Alamgiri Gate is the main entrance to Shahi Qila, the citadel of the city of Lahore, Punjab, Pakistan, my dear lady," Horace explained. "I'm sure it will be quite the escapade. No doubt, it will add a suitable dash of scandal to your sterling reputation to be seen there with me."

They were warmly greeted by a Abd-al-Razzaq, who took them to a secluded table for two. They were in the process of ordering their meal when a group exited a private room. It wasn't polite to stare, but it was such an odd assortment of souls that Minerva felt it truly required a second glance. For a moment, her heart jumped a beat, as there was a hook-nosed, dark haired man, Severus-height in midst of the group. She almost didn't see him as he was blocked by a one-eyed man who appeared almost Hagrid-sized.

No, on closer inspection, the hooked-nose man didn't look at all like Severus, plus he had a shock of _**curly**_ hair that was liberally laced with grey. Oh, Dana, the man had a left arm, cast and slung, but still he had _**one**_. To her embarrassment, the man saw that Minerva was gawking at him and in response, he quirked his left eyebrow in a gesture so damn familiar that her heart leapt once more. That was before he scratched his nose with his left hand, and Minerva flushed before she looked away.

"What's the matter, Minerva?" Horace asked. He put his large hand on top of hers, and gave it a friendly squeeze.

"Just saw someone that strongly reminded me of him," she admitted. She wiped her tearing eyes with her fingers and shook her head. "It's not him, as he had a left arm. He scratched his nose, and…"

For one overwhelming moment, she had believed with her whole heart that the man had been Severus, until she saw the gentleman scratch his nose with his left hand. Poppy had said that the amputation site had been deliberately allowed to get gamy so to make it impossible to re-grow the arm to a functional state. But damn it, the Arched Eyebrow of Amused Condemnation was so _**bloody**_ Severus. Severus would have gifted her with That Look if he had caught Horace and her sneaking out to have a nice intimate dinner together.

"Now, now, take my handkerchief," Slughorn gallantly insisted when Minerva began to weep.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall had been in the bloody Pakistani Palace of Paratha and Puri with Horace Slughorn!

Severus had to look _**twice**_ because first of all, he hadn't expected to see Minerva in Manchester and secondly because he couldn't believe that _**his**_ Minerva would never be having such an _**intimate**_ soirée with the wizard who was both his predecessor and successor. The witch looked up at the wrong instant, saw him staring at her and she had appeared to have instinctively recognized him in spite of his new appearance.

For a split second, Severus had been truly delighted to see Minerva while mock horrified by her choice in dining companion. Then the reality of the situation came crashing down upon his weary shoulders.

For the Greater Good, Damyan and his friends would massacre Minerva and Horace to keep their secret safe. He and Ari were part of the secret now, and therefore, he had to quickly convince Minerva McGonagall that he wasn't Severus Snape. The best way to do that was by scratching his nose… with his left hand. Because it was a well established fact that Severus Snape would never ever possess a left hand again. It physically hurt to raise his arm far enough to scratch his nose, but it was nothing compared to the gaping emotional wound in his soul when he saw Minerva's expressive face crumble in disappointment. The last glance Severus had of the witch was of her sobbing into a sympathetic Slughorn's handkerchief.

But what else could he have done? He obsessed on what could have been, what he should have done until Oxana interrupted his dark thoughts.

"Dinner was quite enjoyable, wasn't it, Adrik? Wonderful food, good conversation and old friends make for the best times," Oxana gently said, while Sasha softly debated what stop on the Metrolink would get them closest to home. "Plenty of takeaway for tomorrow. You seemed to have a very hearty appetite tonight, but you were very quiet tonight."

"Ari has a taste for spices," he lied. It was better than telling her the truth, which was that he only vaguely remembered what he had eaten. 'I also really didn't have much to say tonight."

She smiled at him, and leaned toward him in a conspiratorial fashion as the Metrolink swayed on its tracks. "We were fortunate that there were plenty of clothes that fit you at Barnardo's. Sometimes charity shops don't have a wide selection, so one has to salvage and rummage through their offerings, but tonight, it seemed you were in luck."

Luck had nothing to do with it, as Severus was sure that there were plenty of swishing, flicking and staccato wand motions involved with his new wardrobe. It was bad enough that Sasha had to assist him try on the clothes due to his current infirmity, but he had panicked like a frightened first year when Sasha had been assisting him out a jumper. The fabric over his face had caused him to flash back to something he had long since repressed, three strapping six years ganging up on the dirty little first year in the Slytherin showers.

Sasha had gotten Severus back to rights and then the two of them had sat on the floor of the changing area. Severus then had to listen to his very own personal Agony Aunt aka _**Dear Dangerously Deranged Damyan**_, remind him that he was a normal person reacting normally to a series of extremely abnormal events.

He could help but bitterly chuckle when he realized that the Deranged Dark Wizard and his Dark Consort were far more decent to him in the current situation than most of own comrades would have been. Lucius certainly wouldn't have helped him for fear of angering the Dark Lord. The Headmaster… well… he gave nice presents to Severus and the sprog. His generous offerings were mixed with sweet sounding lies liberally seasoned with the knowledge that Albus Dumbledore would stop being so kindly disposed towards the embarrassment with the burgeoning belly if Severus didn't settle down right quick and immediately behave.

Not so Sasha.

The Dark Wizard let Severus the Sad Sack snark, and have the sulks on a regular set schedule up to a certain point. Once Severus reached that predetermined level, a no-longer amused Sasha would slap him down hard. Then the entire process would begin anew. The acid-tongue Sasha seemed to relish verbally sparring with Severus, yet whenever scriking Severus had the screaming abdabs, it was Sasha just as often as it was Oxana who would settle him down.

The Headmaster had never attempted to calm or console Severus during one of his scriking sessions. No, more often than not the Headmaster had been found vainly and loudly protesting to a skeptical Minerva that he wasn't the motivating factor behind Severus' latest emotional collapse.

Oxana was close emotional kin to Minerva, sheltering him but steadfastly insisting that he stand on his own feet, while Sasha was a polar opposite to the Headmaster. Sasha didn't expect Severus to behave, because _**Sasha**_ didn't behave. The Deranged Dark Wizard said what he wanted, in the manner that he wanted to say it, and he expected Severus to do the same. He wasn't sane, not by a long shot, but then again, neither was Severus.

Well, yes, the Dangerous Duo bought him _**things**_ as the four stuffed bags from Barnado's demonstrated, but they were most assuredly _**not**_ presents. He was expected to pay them back. Sasha had handed him a copy of the receipt and told him payment would be forthcoming out of his wages.

His clothes from Barnado's were plain and sensible. No silk, no fancy embroidery, nothing finer than he deserved because his benefactor, who was from the rarified air of high society, was mortified by Severus' taste in clothes. What with the expense of his mother's Hospice Care, it wasn't like he could just saunter down to Madam Malkin and order a silken robe. No, he had to save and scrimp and while Dumbledore had often bemoaned the fact that the soles of Severus' shoes were a tad worn, it wasn't like Dumbledore had increased his pay sufficiently to pay for both the increase in the cost for his mother's care plus new shoes.

Oxana had only the two requests; his new clothes were to be in any color other than black as he was in _**hiding, **_and that his new clothes be a bit too large, so she'd be able to cast the required expansion and disguise spells on the excess fabric. That way when after Ari burst forth from his all too fertile loins, Oxana would be able to get his clothes back to their proper shape.

Hopefully Sasha would be able to use the same spells to put his stretched and abused bits back where they belonged.

"Tomorrow, you'll meet with Oxana and she'll discuss your wages with you. Room, board, medical care among other expenses will be deducted from your pay. When she's done with your orientation to Serendipity, you can have a spot of tea. Then it's off to work with you," Sasha curtly explained. "I've got quite the backlog _**thanks**_ to you so you will be working hard."

Severus nodded his head in weary agreement.

"Come along now, the St. Peter's stop is next, then only a few blocks to walk until we're home," Sasha tersely stated, and Severus abruptly realized that his tone was due to the mage's intense claustrophobia. "I hate riding the Metrolink. It's abnormal to be moving in a large metal can. I much prefer to walk."

The two of them helped him stand, and he staggered after them. Fortunately, they were carrying all the packages, so all he needed to do was concentrate on putting one foot down after the other. When they stopped walking, he stopped after bumping into Sasha. To his surprise, he felt Sasha guiding his head down, and he realized that he was being placed in a cab.

"We're taking a cab," Sasha softly said. "You look like you've been beaten, Adrik. You don't need to walk the last few blocks."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was walking undetected through the halls of Hogwarts. He had rarely made use of this particular skill through the years, but lately, whenever he was unable to sleep, he would cast a Disillusionment Charm so he could walk undisturbed through the various corridors and hallways. First stop was always at the Slytherin dorms, so he could keep an eye on Severus' students and make suggestions to Horace on what he had witnessed. That way, once Severus returned, as he _**must**_ return, _**as he had promised to return**_, Albus would be able to assure him that Horace had protectively overseen his Snakes.

Millicent had begun to thrive under the supervision of Filius Flitwick and Poppy Pomfrey, and she was no longer cutting. He had spoken to several of her instructors and they had assured him that they would keep their eyes on her to ensure that she wouldn't be able to slip back to her old coping mechanisms. One day, he had even given her House Points in recognition of Pomfrey's glowing report of her skills, and Millicent had just simply stared at him, utterly gobsmacked that the Headmaster had given her, a Snake, points.

Her look of stunned disbelief and the matching faces of the rest of Severus' snakes had affected him deeply, so he had doubled the points he had awarded to her then and there.

The Snakes appeared peacefully asleep, and so he returned back to the Entrance Hall. A drawn looking Minerva McGonagall was being squired into Hogwarts by a concerned Horace Slughorn, and the two were met by Filius and Poppy.

"She needs a Calming Draught," Horace explained. He kept his voice low, so Albus was required to cast an Aid to Hearing spell. "It's been rough for her."

Whatever happened? Hadn't their little assignation gone well? Albus paused, debated the issue and admitted to himself that he was quite interfering and meddlesome plus having absolutely no right to pry into Minerva' personal life. Whomever she decided to dally with was just fine with him. Their passionate relationship had long faded into dust… Yes, he was concerned, as she was a very close friend, and truly, if Horace Slughorn had done anything to upset Minerva, well, then as a worried friend, he had the right to remind Horace how to behave like a proper wizard.

Deliberately, he ignored that small still voice that snarkily reminded him on well he had cocked up the entire Severus Snape incident by behaving like a proper wizard who _**would**_ support their progeny.

"I can't wear this anymore," Minerva explained. She took a chain off her neck and handled it to Filius.

"The medallion didn't work then?" Filius softly questioned in a disappointed tone.

"We ended in Curry Mile in Manchester," Horace explained, as he looked nervously about the room. "We really need to have this conversation some place where we can be assured of privacy. We don't want _**HIM**_ hearing us."

"Headmaster or not, I'll tempted to give him the rough side of my tongue. First Severus, and now Minerva's in a state," protested Filius.

"I _**felt**_ him," Minerva tearfully explained. "He was _**terrified**_, Filius. Something happened, and Severus was terrified and then… then… he just shut down. Whatever happened, just completely overwhelmed him, and he just couldn't process anything more. I have no idea what that could be, he's always been so bloody strong, Filius!"

"You didn't tell me _**that**_, Minerva," Horace protested.

"Take her to her quarters, and I'll meet you there with a Calming Draft. Be quick, we don't want Dumbledore involved," Poppy ordered. "I'm canceling her classes tomorrow. You need a nice lie-in, Min. You've been running yourself ragged and you'll have a complete physical collapse if you don't rest."

"Don't make me drink it," Minerva whispered. "I have to be available in case we find Severus. I have to buffer them…If I'm fuzzy…If I'm non compos mentis…I won't be able to mediate them. Severus **_needs _**me to buffer Albus…He rarely bloody listens to me, but I have to try, damn it!"

"We Slytherins pride ourselves on our chivalrous nature, and Severus will be quite vexed if you work yourself in prostration." Horace Slughorn said that quite forcibly. "The honor of Slytherin House must be maintained. Besides, I've already slipped something into your drink at the restaurant. You'll just sleep better if you take the second Calming Draught."

Minerva looked stunned for just a moment, and then she softly laughed.

"Oh Horace, how can a poor Gryffindor like me hope to prevail against such a sly and devious Slytherin?"

* * *

"We're home!" Oxana joyfully informed the two little fuzzballs that loudly purred their welcomes. The two familiars then acknowledged Severus' arrival by attempting to murder him by twisting themselves around his ankles and tripping him.

_**Yes**_, Severus decided, as he gracelessly collapsed onto the couch. _**This is my home. **_

Yes, he had promised that he'd return back to the Headmaster… return back to Hogwarts so that the Headmaster could seize the very best of him. Severus Snape put his right hand on his belly, and decided that he had given enough to Albus Dumbledore, thank you very much.

And he'd give no more.

But he'd need help from someone barmy enough to spit in Albus Dumbledore's eye and loudly snicker his derision. There were only two men in all of creation that matched that description, and Ari would not to be raised by Aberforth as no daughter of Severus Snape would be drinking straight from the taps of the Hog's Head Tavern.

That left one person who would really need someone to settle him down to ensure that that the sprog was fed and her nappies were changed. Fortunately, for the world at large, the soul in question had such a dedicated soul looking after him.

"Damyan Georgiev Draganov?" Severus softly questioned. "I… would be… **_honored… _**if you would consent to be Ariana's Godfather."

* * *

"Can't you read? We're _**bloody**_ closed," Aberforth Dumbledore roared. He was giving the last table at the Hog's Head a lackadaisical wipe down, as in his mind, it would just be dirty again tomorrow so why put too much of an effort into it? He wanted to go home and give Mattie, the abandoned goat kid, a bottle while he told Mattie a bedtime story. It was always the same bedtime story, the one that Ariana had liked so much.

"I don't wish a drink," his brother softly informed him.

"My, my, my, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? Why are you slumming, Albus?" Aberforth questioned.

Albus Dumbledore sat on the bar stool, facing his brother and slowly, he removed his half-moon spectacles. He looked tired and quite despondent, and Aberforth wondered what grand scheme of his had gone all pear shaped.

"I want you to break my nose," Albus softly requested. "I want you to tell me how much I failed our family and how you wish that I'd rot in deepest dark hell with my sodomite lover. Tell me how much you hate me, Aberforth, how our parents are ashamed of me, and how I have repeatedly failed anyone that ever made the mistake of depending on me, and then, I want you to break my nose again."

Really, an opportunity like this was too rare to let it pass by, so Aberforth Dumbledore raised one large fist and landed a picture perfect punch on his brother's crooked nose.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N # 1 – Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

We last left Albus Dumbledore getting a hard dose of reality from his ever loving brother.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat on the bar stool, facing his brother and slowly, he removed his half-moon spectacles. He looked tired and quite despondent, and Aberforth wondered what grand scheme of his had gone all pear shaped.

"I want you to break my nose," Albus softly requested. "I want you to tell me how much I failed our family and how you wish that I'd rot in deepest dark hell with my sodomite lover. Tell me how much you hate me, Aberforth, how our parents are ashamed of me, and how I have repeatedly failed anyone that ever made the mistake of depending on me, and then, I want you to break my nose again."

Really, an opportunity like this was too rare to let it pass by, so Aberforth Dumbledore raised one large fist and landed a picture perfect punch on his brother's crooked nose.

* * *

Albus' universe was spinning on its axis, much like his brain was rapidly whirling inside his skull and bemusedly, he stared at the ceiling. The Earth was rotating beneath him, revolving so fast that he knew that he'd fly off into the cosmos if he stood. Better stay flat on the ground and enjoy the view provided by lying supine.

_Lying flat on one's back truly gives one an interesting perspective on life. For example_, _Aberforth really should do something about those cobwebs._

"Shite," bellowed a very disappointed Aberforth. "You bloody promised me that I could tell you off, and break your nose twice, damn it! Don't black out before I can tell you off!"

_Percival Dumbledore, a mountain of man, reached for him and then tightly embraced him. "You take care of them, with me gone; you're the man of the house. Can't let any of them know, they'll take Ariana from us, lock her up."_

"Get on your ruddy feet. You wanted me to punch you, and I didn't realize you had a bloody glass chin!"

_Ariana was screaming and screaming and screaming and she wouldn't cease her bloody screaming. He tried to tempt her with her favorites, but she wouldn't eat, instead she just screamed and screamed and screamed. He was all of seventeen years old, his parents dead to protect their sacred secret, trapped in a life with a nutter of a sister who screamed and a half-crazed from grief brother who despised him besides possessing the promising future of being permanently locked up for bestiality. _

_Was this his grand destiny? _

_He'd be madder than his sister by Christmas. _

_He struggled to get her to eat anything, each spoonful down her gullet a hard fought victory. He talked to her in his best, calm tone, he tried to sing to her like Aberforth did but it didn't work and she just kept screaming. His damnable brother kept insisting that he'd quit school to take care of their sister because Albus couldn't control her. _

_Albus was the head of the fractured Dumbledore Family, and his dozy brother __**would**__ return to Hogwarts where he made __**no**__ effort to learn anything and Ariana __**would**__ be cared for and fed, but oh, in the darkest hours of night when Ari screamed and screamed about the bad boys who had hurt her, Albus pondered dark thoughts. Would it have been a mercy if she had died, rather than survive her ordeal? In time, perhaps, the grief over her death might have faded, and there would still have been the four of them, as opposed to the fragments of three. She would have remained a memory of bright, tragic beauty rather than a screaming, shattered shell of a girl._

_Elphias… His dear friend Elphias had abandoned him, gone on his world tour. He had insisted that he'd stay with Albus, but Albus couldn't chain him here. Elphias dutifully sent him letters, cheery, informative missives, full of all the adventures that Albus was missing and promises on what they'd do together once Elphias was done traveling the world. He read them at first; devouring and memorizing every word until finally Albus couldn't bear the pain of reading them anymore. Must Elphias sound so bloody jolly about his Grand Adventure? Elphias' missives weren't just salt in an gaping, open wound, his communiqués were aconite, powdered griffin claw and salamander blood scoured into the gaping, hemorrhaging mortal wound that was Albus' life. The letters stacked up, unopened, untouched. _

_Then one day, in answer to his prayers, his life changed. _

"_I am Gellert," said the dazzling handsome blond. He was a God, a golden Adonis, banished to Earth, forced to wallow among the putrid mountains of goat dung in the seventh layer of hell that was better known as Godric's Hollow. Gellert had laughing green eyes and there was a spark of intelligence in them that made Albus desperately hope that they could be friends. Perhaps, they could __**talk**__. These days, his conversations were limited to Aberforth's grunts, Ariana's screams and the bleating of Abeforth's bloody goats. _

_And yes, they talked, and Albus marveled that he had found someone whose keen mind matched his own. They could discuss anything and everything and his presence quickly became a balm to Albus' aching soul. _

_On one perfect summer day, Gellert decided to show him how it was done between men and took his virginity. Up until then, Albus had shyly experimented with Elphias while they were at Hogwarts. They had only gone as far as hesitantly snogging and mutual wanking as they had been terrified of being outed as deviants. Not Gellert, he had no shame, no fear, no responsibilities to anyone except himself and Albus admired, envied and loved him for his carefree nature._

_For a single, golden moment on that perfect summer day, nothing existed for Albus, and then Ariana, naturally, had to ruin it._

_She had escaped from Aberforth and she found the two naked men… boys really. Gellert was stroking Albus' hair while they lay in each other's arms._

_"Al not wearing clothes!" Ariana delightedly shrieked as she wildly danced and danced around them. Albus quickly got back into his clothes while the brazen Gellert indulgently lounged au natural. Aberforth soon arrived and his face was a storm cloud. Though he was all but illiterate, he figured out the sums well enough._

_"Sodomite," Aberforth spat the word like a Curse at his brother._

_"Zoophile," Albus retorted. Not that Aberforth knew what __**that**__ meant, so for good measure he maliciously added, "Goat lover."_

_On that day, the rift between the brothers grew and increased until it was a chasm so vast and wide that there was little hope of ever bridging it. Naturally, he turned even more to Gellert, who understood… oh thank Merlin, Gellert understood. They talked about a world where people like his sister could be safe; silly daydreams, nothing more, as there were no way that two young men could ever overturn the world order._

_Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there had been a bright and golden girl named Ariana, and then one day, she laid still and dead, slain in the midst of a three way magical brawl. Gellert fled, naturally, and Aberforth blamed Albus for Ariana's death. It __**was**__ his fault, as Albus had neglected her. Elphias, dear, sweet and stalwart Elphias appeared at his door on the day of Ariana's funeral._

_And when Aberforth broke his nose in the midst of the funeral, Elphias had physically separated the two Dumbledore brothers. Albus didn't raise his wand or his hands to defend himself from the raging bull known as Aberforth, because he accepted that he deserved the broken nose and so much more._

"_Not like this," Elphias tearfully insisted. He possessed a gentle soul that wounded so easily. "Your parents would not approve! You are all the family that each other has!"_

"_Ask him about Gellert," Aberforth spitefully whispered. "Ask him about his Teutonic boyfriend. Inquire about your letters that remain unopened and unread. Question him about his golden hair lover. Ask him about what he did underneath the apple tree. Ask him… if he remained chaste and true while you were away…" _

_And Elphias had turned to Albus, his eyes full of pain, begging Albus to refute Abeforth's claims, and Albus… couldn't… lie._

"_I loved you," Elphias' soft voice was almost impossible soft. "I was willing to cancel my trip to be here with you…I would have willingly stayed here to help you with your sister if only you would have had me."_

_On the day he buried his sister, he lost not only his brother's love, but gentle, loving Elphias' kind regard. At the time, being young and foolish, he regarded the loss of Elphias' friendship as far more painful than earning his brother's perpetual loathing. _

_In time, he finally understood the true tragedy of the death of Ariana Dumbledore. _

_Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also._

"Get up you damn fool, I didn't hit you that hard," Aberforth growled.

No, it wasn't Aberforth's punch that was causing his faraway state, it was the fact that Albus had decided to bounce his head off the counter, turn a cartwheel or three and bonelessly collapse onto the floor. _  
_

_We skipped the light fandango, turned cartwheels cross the floor_

_I was feeling kinda seasick, but the crowd called out for more_

_The room was humming harder, as the ceiling flew away…_

There was something wet on the back of his head…. Might be blood… possibly could be his brains leaking out of his skull….

"_My dear, dear, precious Minerva, are you sure?" Albus kept his voice soft._

"_Please?" Minerva whispered. Her hands were on his shoulders and her beautiful green eyes were peering into his soul. "I want you to be my first…since what happened…"  
_

"_My dear lady, you honor me," he tenderly whispered. "You honor me so much with this boon that I fear my pride will be insufferable. I pray that you will be able to keep me from being too arrogant."_

"_Doubtful," quipped Minerva. "But then, I've always hated your taste in hats, so if this puffs up your head and you can't wear them anymore, I'd quite delighted."_

_A laughing Albus sat down next to Minerva on her bed. With her long hair undone, she appeared young and anxious over this next step in their relationship. With gentle hands, he removed Minerva's glasses and placed them on her bureau. That done, he tenderly smiled at her before he shyly kissed her cheek. They looked into each other eyes while they held hands and Albus questioningly arched his eyebrow, silently asking her if she was sure about this large leap of faith. In response, Minerva bit her lip, pondering his unasked question. She bravely nodded her consent, and Albus kissed the bruise on her lip, soothing the wound with his lips. Carefully, reverently he began to leisurely undress Minerva, taking his time so to savor the experience._

"_So beautiful, so brave, my Minerva is," he whispered into her ear. "My courageous, daring lioness, I am so flattered…"_

_He had loved her, oh Gods, how he still loved her. _

_Not the school boy crush he once had for Elphias nor the overwhelming passion for Gellert that had waylaid his sanity and nearly destroyed his soul but a gentle, warming love that chased away the shadows in his heart. They could talk… about almost anything… their tight camaraderie strengthened and magnified by their physical intimacy. He revealed far more about himself to Minerva than he had to anyone else. He couldn't tell her everything….because some secrets were best left unspoken… but she knew him far better than even Elphias. _

_Albus squired her to the Flamels, where Nicholas and Pernelle whole heartedly gave him their approval of the match, and he even took her to Elphias and his wife Leah's house. That incident had proven embarrassing as with his white hair and beard, their great-grandchildren had loudly insisted that he was Father Christmas. He had played along with it, and Minerva had watched the scene with pained amusement in her green eyes._

_She was barren, but it mattered not at all to him. He had reassured her of that basic truth so many times, and Albus had prayed that she believed him. He had over three hundred children to oversee as the Headmaster of Hogwarts; that was more than enough for him. As it was, there were always the Toms that slipped through the cracks. _

_And so after he had introduced to his closest friends, when she had requested a meeting to discuss their relationship, he had taken with him the engagement ring that he had previously bought, but he had been too timid to present to her. It had diamonds and emeralds that matched the color of her bright eyes and Fawkes, in spite of being a rather vain creature, had regretfully agreed that the platinum ring was __**almost**__ as pretty as he was._

_This night, he would ask. This night, he would. The Flamels had approved and Elphias had been delighted that Albus had finally found someone. If he could face and defeat Gellert, why was proposing to Minerva so much harder?_

"_I love you," she had told him. "But you don't love me the way I need to be loved, Albus. I think it's best for a clean break." _

_To no avail, he had protested. _

"_I love you, utterly and completely Albus. I love you in spite of your horrific taste in hats and your strange desire for spangles, but while you love me… you don't unreservedly love me. You always hold something back, Albus. I want… I need…I __**bloody**__ deserve… to be loved by someone for whom I'm everything."_

_If Minerva would give him another chance, he'd do better next time, be more demonstrative…. Albus would take her to the damn ministry functions that he was always required to attend. He would take their relationship public… do anything… It wasn't that he was ashamed of their relationship; he just hadn't wished the taint of scandal to be attached to Minerva. She had earned the position of Assistant Headmistress of Hogwarts on her own merit, not because of their relationship, but he had known that people would talk. _

_No, Minerva had done the figures and had decided that he was fundamentally lacking in some arcane ingredient necessary for the ability to truly love her, and so their relationship had ended. Their closeness had shattered along with his heart, and it had taken months… years…and a great deal of effort on both their parts before they could easily converse once more._

_On her seventieth birthday, he had hesitantly given her a platinum pendant with diamonds and emeralds that matched her eyes. While Minerva would never wear his ring, it was enough that his dearest friend would wear that token of his esteem, love and affection. Somehow, the entirely too empathic Minerva had __**known**__ what the pendant had once been, and so she wore it for the passion that had once existed between them and the friendship that had endured._

"Bloody hell, I've just scrambled your damn brains," growled his brother. "You had to crack your bloody head open on the counter. I just bloody wiped it down."

_The dark haired Slytherin just stared at Albus, and the boy opened his mind to him. The onslaught of Severus' overwhelming need nearly unmanned Albus, as Albus could hear, feel, sense an emotionally shattered Severus mentally shrieking how he was cursed and damned._

_**USE ME. USE ME. ALBUS, CONSUME ME! I GIVE EVERYTHING TO YOU AND DO SO WILLINGLY!**_

_"You're a Legilimens, Albus," Severus pleaded. "Read my mind. You could do anything to me, just don't turn me away. Not tonight, I beg of you."_

_**I AM ICE.**_

_**I BLEED TO DEATH FROM THE PAIN. STAY WITH ME, WARM ME.**_

_**I COULD MAKE IT SO GOOD FOR YOU!**_

_"Easy…. Easy…" Albus whispered. "Just for tonight."_

_He kissed Severus on the top of his head, and the boy began to weep._

_For a moment, he had his doubts. The boy was fey tonight… He shouldn't do this; he should send Severus on his way as Snape was an instructor at the school. Severus __**wasn't**__ a tool… it wouldn't be right to bed him, but oh Merlin, Severus was a mass of oozing emotional wounds. Severus needed to be held and consoled and damm it, Albus was just so damn lonely. The holidays always made Albus maudlin as he reviewed his joyful memories of happy Christmases with his family using his pensieve. _

_Their intimacy was to be for just for one night, to help Severus through his current emotional crisis. His plan had been to be tender and affectionate with the distraught Severus, but instead, Severus had been feral and frenzied that night, so anxious for Albus to experience carnal bliss from his sexual skill that Severus had no fear of hurting himself. Albus was an old man and bedding a sexual buck was a surefire way to die in bed. So he had insisted on slowing the pace and he had ensured that Severus had his pleasure first._

_During the night, Severus had tried to slip out of his bed so Albus wouldn't have the awkwardness of dealing with him in the morning. His stealth in sneaking off had disturbed Albus, how Snape had anticipated that Albus would be deeply __**ashamed**__ of bedding him. He softly insisted that his lover stay in his bed. Albus wouldn't just kick the Severus out of his bed! Severus would stay the entire night, and in the morning, they'd have breakfast together in Albus' quarters. It would be the proper way to end their night together. Severus had still seemed far to eager for flight, so deliberately, he had held Severus close while he whispered heartfelt remarks about how wonderful the night had been and how Severus need never worry about Albus regretting it. He had stroked and caressed Severus and he demanded many kisses until Severus was drowsy with sleep._

_He had been dozing, when he felt his bed partner move. His lover had carefully stroked his beard with gentle hands so not to wake him and then Severus had timidly whispered, "Love you"._

_No, no, no. Severus had not just said that. _

_Albus had __**known**__ that Severus loved Lily Evans; Albus had known that basic, undeniable principle just as certainly as he had known casting _Wingardium Leviosa _would cause a feather to gently float in the air_. _Severus Snape had loved his dear friend so fiercely that he was willing to betray the Dark Lord to protect her son. Lily had known about the strength of his regard for her because Albus had broken his word and had informed Lily about her benefactor. Lily had needed to know the truth about Severus, but Albus hadn't told her what he believed to be the real reason why Severus was protecting her. She had wept then, and James had asked why. Lily had lied and she had told him it was due to her hormones being in such a flux, but her tears were for the solitary, earnest boy with the dark eyes. _

_Albus' heart had shattered on that Christmas night when he had realized that he had made a horrible mistake. Severus was devoted to Lily's memory because she had been his only friend for far too long. He didn't love her…not in that way… No, he __**loved**__ the man that __**willingly**__ sent him into that viper's pit. _

_Oh Merlin… sweet Merlin… no…_

_He would never have touched the boy if he had any inkling of the depths of the boy's feelings toward him. The war Albus fought did not permit him the chance to love, especially one who so needed affection and devotion. Furious with himself for such a colossal misstep, Albus had realized too far late that boy believed that Albus' anger was directed toward him._

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledorewas had been unanimously deemed by the jury of his loved ones as being too self-absorbed to care about anyone else but himself, inconsistent in his affections resulting in an inability to commit fully, emotionally and physically undemonstrative and far too involved in his grand, noble causes to actually care about another person. _

_Subsequently, when they had finally rescued the shattered, gutted shell of Severus Snape, Albus had vowed that he would do everything in his power to help Severus. All his life, Albus had disappointed the people that had loved and needed him, and his failure would stop then and there. Whatever Severus needed, he would provide._

_And when the shattered Severus decided that what he needed to do was bring the child to term, an utterly gobsmacked Albus had no damn clue what to do. _

_He had failed Ariana, Aberforth, Elphias, Minerva and Severus among countless others and now… now… now there was a child…. his child… his… daughter…__**their daughter**__… involved. _

_Regardless of his daughter's highly irregular conception, whatever Severus needed, Albus would make available… and if no one would tell him what Severus required, then Albus would still provide what he deemed suitable and appropriate. Severus would have __**proper**__ clothing for once. Every damn bonus, every damn pay increase he had pushed through for Severus had gone directly toward his mother's care. He wouldn't even buy himself a proper pair of shoes even though his soles had been worn thin, repaired and worn thin once again._

_Severus wouldn't have to worry about finances as Albus would provide a suitable stipend large enough to cover all of Severus' expenses including his mother's care. Albus' Gringotts vault had more than enough gold to cover a lifetime of Eileen's Hospice expenses. _

_Oh yes, his noble efforts at supporting Severus and their child as Severus recovered from his horrific ordeal had been far more successful than Albus had ever dared hope. Minerva and Poppy had warned him to leave Severus alone. But he couldn't, because Albus rightly feared to be accused of rejecting Severus. It was his modus operandi after all. When his loved ones needed him, he was long gone from the scene. _

_Everything had gone completely pear shaped thanks to Albus. He had further traumatized the shattered Severus so severely that Severus believed the only acceptable option was to flee from Albus' alleged anger, and Albus… oh sweet Melrin, he had caused Minerva intense emotional distress. _

_Why did he always hurt the ones he loved? He could easily defeat Dark Wizards, Transfigure sand into gold yet… Oh Merlin, dear stalwart and true Minerva. He hadn't meant to hurt her by putting in the unenviable position of being the intermediary and referee between him and Severus. Hadn't meant to terrify Severus… but he had…_

"Bloody hell, you've got two black eyes and your ruddy nose is now pointing in a new direction." Aberforth roughly announced. His gruffness was in sharp contrast to his gentle hands that were carefully palpating the back of Albus' head. "Plus you're got a good gash on the back of your head. I know enough healing to close it, but it won't be pretty. What the hell brought on your strange desire to get punched?"

"I'm to be a father," Albus woozily informed his brother. "I thought it would be for the best if you punched me before you failed to congratulate me on spawning. If you give me a minute, I should be able to stand long enough for you to hit me again."

Abeforth peered into his brother's eyes, gauged Albus' pupils and loudly snorted his disgust. He wanted to be home with Mattie, not dealing with a rambling and incoherent Albus Dumbledore.

"Bloody hell, I better take you to St. Mungo's. Everyone knows that delusions and hallucinations are bad signs with a head injury. The day you care enough about someone else to father a child…"

"But I did care…" Albus whispered. "I did and I still do. I swear that I do care about him…"

"_**Him**_? Albus, I may not be the smartest wizard ever to take a leak, but even I know that you need a _**man**_ and _**woman**_ to make a child," Aberforth tartly reminded his brother.

"You'd be surprised…."

* * *

Once she was safe in her quarters, Minerva gave a succinct report about exploring Curry Mile with Horace to Filius and Poppy. Then, regretfully, Minerva tentatively explained how she had been so convinced that the hawk nosed man had been Severus until she had seen his left arm. Last thing she wanted was for Filius to think she was a nutter and seeing Severus everywhere. Filius just nodded his head and said not a word about her misassumption regarding Severus.

To her surprise, Horace was sitting next to her on her couch and he was gently rubbing her back. That simple act of support and compassion had her close to coming completely undone.

"How do you feel, Minerva?" Filius intently questioned. The Charms Master, who had the medallion in his right hand, was keenly examining her. Whatever he saw in her face, Filius did not approve.

"My head hurts like I was hit by a Bludger," Minerva wearily admitted. "I'm also feeling a bit peaked."

She gingerly put her hand on the back of her head, surprised that there wasn't a large aubergine colored bruise.

"Anything else?" The Charms Master prompted. "Tell me _**everything**_. It's important."

"I'm feeling… frightened… distressed…depressed… overwhelmed… exhausted… dizzy… plus for the lack of a better description, I had this truly surreal moment of wild euphoria that rather quickly crashed and burned… which was replaced by an overwhelming feeling of desperation." Minerva then sighed. "I'd really like to go to bed."

"I'll ensure that she takes her potion," Horace insisted to her concerned friends. "I'll stay until she's asleep."

"Don't be so bloody noble, Horace," Minerva tartly protested. "You've got to teach tomorrow."

"Nobility is the core of every Slytherin," chorused Horace, Filius and Poppy as it was one of Horace's favorite sayings.

Filius and Poppy ordered her to bed, and she wearily nodded her head in agreement. Horace continued to rub her back until after Filius and Poppy had left her room. His large hands kneaded her tight neck and she had the most delightful tingles when he ran his hand down her back.

"That feels nice," Minerva confessed.

"You're holding in all your tension, Minerva. Your neck and shoulders are like solid rock. Let me get that potion for you, and I'll add a muscle relaxant. Get changed for bed, and I'll be right back."

It had been some time since she had entertained Horace in her bedroom, so she slipped into a Slytherin-green dressing gown. While crawling into her tartan jim-jams and sleeping for the next week held a certain appeal, Horace was a rather sophisticated soul. He had his foibles and one of them was that he truly enjoyed the tactile sensation of silk.

Carefully, she positioned herself just so in the middle of her large bed, and she waited for Horace to return. Minerva was almost asleep by the time Horace silently returned.

"I'm awake," she quickly assured him.

"I want you to drink this," he requested as he handed her a small vial. "It will relax you further and you'll sleep for most of tomorrow. If we find Severus, I can wake you and easily reverse it, so you'll be bright eyed and chipper when you attempt to beat some sense in Albus' head. Shall I get you a Quidditch Bat from Rolanda?"

"I'd rather have a la petite mort than a potion to relax me," Minerva straightforwardly admitted. "Plus a Quidditch Bat is just so lonely and just so… wooden plus the chance for scandalous splinters that I dare not explain to Poppy. Stay with me tonight, Horace. For old times' sake."

Being a prim and proper soul, Horace blushed, while his light green hazel eyes showed that he was amused not scandalized by her boldness. The Slytherin shook his head. "You've already had a potion that has relaxed you and lowered your inhibition. I will not take advantage of you.

"Horace, I'm not a frigid virgin. I won't wake up tomorrow claiming that you took advantage of me. Potion or no potion, I don't want to be alone tonight, and I wish you would stay."

There, her wand was on the table, it was now time for Horace to decide if he should stay or go.

"I'm honored, but I've put on some weight since last time," Horace softly admitted.

"And I've put on quite a few years. Get into bed, Horace, you should remember that I prefer my lovers with a little meat on their bones. Less likely to gouge myself on their hipbones, plus… it's wonderful cuddling with you. You kept me warm on many a cold, winter night." Minerva then paused, debated and then smiled wickedly. "Besides, I remember how your mustache tickles."

"I cherish fond memories on how you are sensitive in certain spots, m'dear," he agreed. "I was rather nonplussed on our first night when you kept giggling. Fortunately you were such a kind soul that you explained to me that my mustache was tickling you, else I would have been devastated. Performance anxiety is a cruel, cruel curse for older men."

Horace flashed a grin, complete with dimples, before he deliberately traced his finger down her cheekbone, down her neck to her shoulder. Minerva smiled when Horace's hand began rubbing her silk clad shoulder.

_Is this need for closeness a betrayal of Severus? He had been her only lover for the past few years…but they had specifically made no promises to each other, no pledges of undying devotion, each assuring the other that they knew the boundaries of their relationship. They weren't __**in**__ love, but yet there was love between them. A prickly, spiky, confiding affection based on candor and openness. _

_And because of that trusting relationship, she was capable of damaging Severus just as surely as Albus was. In fact, she was able of wounding him far worse than Albus could, because Severus trusted her. _

Carefully, Horace sat down on the edge of her bed and he turned towards her. His hand continued to touch, explore and caress.

"Silk, Minerva? Not only do you remember my ticklish mustache, it seems that you also considered my eccentricities in your nefarious plan to relieve me of my innocence."

With a surprising grace, Horace leaned towards her and gently kissed her on the lips. For a moment, Minerva felt a spark of alarmed panic which quickly melted away. It was deligthful… to be kissed by Horace.

Horace was a very well educated connoisseur of fine wine, food and the female form.

Albus snogged with a great deal of sincerity and passion while Severus' kisses had been hesitant then more self-assured as their relationship progressed, but Horace? When Horace Slughorn kissed you, you bloody knew you were snogged.

But damn it, she had to start giggling like a school girl in the midst of their kiss! It was his damn walrus mustache.

"Laugh at me?" Horace gave a mock growl. "Mock my best attempts at seducing you? Well, m'dear, I fondly remember all _**your**_ ticklish spots."

Then he aggressively began kissing her neck and Minerva began giggling still harder.

* * *

"Damyan Georgiev Draganov?" Severus softly questioned. "I… would be… _**honored… **_if you would consent to be Ariana's Godfather. Ekaterina Sidorova Dobrolubskaia? Would you be her Godmother? She has one already, but there's no reason why she couldn't have two. I would be pleased if you accepted."

The Dark Mage placed his hand on Severus' forehead and shook his head.

"He's feverish," he brusquely announced to Oxana. "I'll pull the fever out as he can't take my usual tincture. Can you help him after I'm done? He'll need to be undressed, and I'm sure he'd prefer if you helped. Now, just relax and I'll pull the fever out. You'll feel a little pressure in your head…"

Sasha put his fingertips on Severus' temples and he murmured a few soft words. Severus felt a rush and then, he was quite weary. Sasha put his hand on the wall so to put the fever into the stone.

_I don't know how to do that. There's much he knows which with I'm not familiar. It would be an asset for Ari, to have someone watching over her that hasn't been trained by Dumbledore and by extension, the Dark Lord. They both know how I will react to a given situation but Sasha… he's a completely unknown quantity. _

_Is it wise to actually want him to raise Ariana? He's got that slight issue with his temper._

_Yet, he's managed to make a life for himself, without either Dumbledore or the Dark Lord being none the wiser. He could keep Ari in the shadows… she'd be safe…. Oxana would be able to keep her eye on both of them._

_If Minerva raised her, the enemies of Albus would target her…_

_And…Albus… might… hurt… her…neglect her… She'd love him so much and he'd disappoint her… she'd think it was her fault… because of me…She'll hate me for denying her the chance to have his love…. I couldn't handle that…_

_There's no going back to Dumbledore now, as he'll be infuriated that I asked Damyan to be Godfather. _

"Will you?" Severus softly repeated. "Would you consent to be Ariana's Godfather?"

"Let's get you to bed," Sasha answered. The older wizard easily pulled Severus to his feet, and he wrapped his arm around Severus. "Lean on me and we'll get you to bed."

Severus refused to move and then he repeated his question. "Will you? Ekaterina?"

"To be a Godfather implies that God and I are on speaking terms," Sasha dryly retorted. "Sad to say, we're not. Besides, if you wish to tell Dumbledore in no uncertain terms to go sod off, there's countless other, dare I say it, _**saner**_ ways to do so than having me be Godfather to his child."

"I'm serious," Severus tiredly insisted. "I am. You can keep her safe… Ekaterina?"

They ignored his offer, dosed him and put him to bed with a firm admonishment that he be ready to work for his keep tomorrow.

He had the strangest dreams… he was in Minerva' bed chambers, and he was being rather enthusiastically kissed by Horace Slughorn. Instinctively, he panicked, his fear of intimacy overwhelming him, but then he remembered.

It was only a dream assisted by whatever medication he had taken.

Severus Snape wasn't Horace's type, not at all… so it was only his overactive imagination playing tricks on his dreaming self as he had seen Minerva and Horace having dinner together… but bloody hell, Horace's mustache was rather ticklish.

But his last thought before he fell asleep was that the old boy was certainly rather creative and ingenious a lover. Severus had never made Minerva react quite like that….

* * *

Albus was feeling rather giddy and ticklish and he moved in response. The baby goat in his arms baa'd his disapproval as his bottle was removed from his mouth.

"Sorry… Mattie," Albus sincerely apologized to the baby goat. He plopped the bottle back into the goat's mouth, and the goat began to blissfully suck once more. "Mattie, I feel I must warn you that you're going to hiccup if you continue to eat this fast and I refuse to burp you."

Mattie didn't care.

Albus moved slightly to make himself more comfortable on the couch. It was quite difficult as he was nursing a goat that was supposedly orphaned and still allegedly a baby even though it weighed a good six or seven stone. Knowing his brother as well as Albus did, he had no doubts that Mattie had once started off as an orphaned baby, and the shrewd goat, realizing a good thing when he had it, hadn't bothered informing Aberforth that he was now a goat grown and no longer needed a bedtime bottle.

It was astonishingly… relaxing… to nurse the goat. Albus had experienced a brief moment of panic when the goat had first clambered into his lap as Mattie _**was**_ a rather large goat. Mattie was surprisingly warm and quite fuzzy, so he was a living, breathing continental quilt. Plus the goat made the most remarkable noises while he suckled from the bottle.

Albus was sitting in Aberforth's home and it smelled ever so slightly of Mattie the goat. Not that it bothered Albus, as it was a familiar, homey, musky scent. Percival and Kendra Dumbledore had once owned goats, and Albus was feeling rather nostalgic.

"You're a natural," Aberforth gruffly informed his older brother.

"Mattie's doing all the work, I'm just holding the bottle," Albus honestly confessed. "Have I stopped bleeding yet? I'd hate to get my blood over your couch."

While the battered couch had seen its better day as it displayed assorted stains from various bits and bobs, Albus didn't want to add his blood to the messy menagerie. There was enough bad blood between him and his brother, thank you very much.

"Yes, you've stopped bleeding."

"Good, I'd hate to bleed on your furniture," he told his younger brother. Yes, Albus was repeating himself, but it was better than awkward silence? Wasn't it?

"So, you're to be a father. God help that poor soul who's spawning your child, and you're still insisting that the baby's mum is male?" Aberforth questioned. "You sure he's a proper male? _The Quibbler_ had this interesting article on inbetweens… claiming that these inbetweens had various bits and bobs. If he was an inbetween that would explain why he's up the duff."

"I didn't know you…" _Could read_ was what Albus was about to say, but he thought better of it. "Read _The Quibbler_."

"Don't," Aberforth admitted proudly, justifiably proud of being his brother's anti-thesis in every single possible way. "They were cackling about it at Hog's Head. Mattie? You're done with your bottle, so off to bed with you. It's late and you need your sleep"

The drowsy goat looked hurt and disappointed and Aberforth shook his head. "I'll tell you all about _Babbitty Rabbitty_ tomorrow night, Mattie. Need to talk to my brother. Off with you. I'll make it up for tomorrow by telling you another story along with_ Babbitty Rabbitty_."

The goat realizing that no bedtime story would be forthcoming, then left the sitting room and climbed into Aberforth's bed where he settled and made himself quite comfortable Albus was happy that Mattie was no longer sitting in his lap, as the goat kid was rather heavy, plus the goat caused him the most unusual ticklish feeling. He had nearly burst out in giddy giggles several times while nursing Mattie as he had been bombarded with ticklish sensations all over his body.

Some had been in _**extremely**_ interesting spots.

"_Babbitty Rabbitty_?" Albus softly questioned. "That was…"

"Aye, her favorite," admitted Aberforth. "It's Mattie's favorite also. I refuse to tell him _The Three Brothers_."

"Reasonable," agreed his older brother.

"It's an ill-omened tale," spat the youngest Dumbledore brother. "So, tell me about this man who is all male yet having your child."

"I must ask that you keep it between us," regretfully requested Albus.

"Ask me to keep your secrets? Haven't I kept our family's secrets, Albus? For better for worse, I've kept it all quiet. You'd think you'd have learned by now, you being so bloody intelligent and all that, the secrets you learned at our mother's knee brought nothing but destruction down on our family. What's one more? I'll tell you what's wrong. It was a _**bloody**_ mistake to treat Ariana as something shameful," Aberforth roared. "Secrecy destroyed our family, Albus!"

Mattie the goat bleated his concern and Aberforth settled down.

"Just having a heated discussion with my loving brother, Mattie. Go back to sleep," Aberforth softly called.

The goat nickered and calmed down.

"I ask you to keep it secret because Voldemort was instrumental in the conception of the child, and I do not wish the child to be seen as ill-omened," Albus explained. "I was rather surprised when informed that a conception had taken place."

"Unplanned? Unwanted? Should have used a contraceptive spell," snickered his brother.

"The child while unplanned is most assuredly wanted," Albus growled. "Her fathers both very much desire her to be born healthy."

"But the child is completely You Know Who's doing?" Aberforth spat his disgust, aiming at Albus' suede boots. Albus refused to move his foot, allowing Aberforth to score his spat derision on his boots.

"Yes."

The admission was a painful one for Albus. A baby was normally a source of such hopeful potential, and yet their daughter had been conceived using Dark Magic. In spite of his insistence to Minerva, Albus secretly feared for the baby's possible contamination.

"Alastor? He's been tetchier than normal lately," Aberforth suggested in a sly tone, his blue eyes narrowing. "Broody, one might say. So is Alastor Moody our stroppy cow?"

"No, _**not**_ Alastor." Albus then barked a laugh. "Though considering how placid Alastor is at the best of times, Alastor with child is a rather frightening thought!"

"Then the father is Severus," his brother shrewdly decided. "Let me guess, he fancied you and you shagged Severus, rather thoroughly from the unexpected results of your little swimmers. Severus told you that he was up the duff and he realized then what an uncaring, heartless bastard you are so he ran for the hills. That's why you have the Order searching for him, as you want what is in his bloody gut."

"Succinctly put, but not completely correct. Voldemort kidnapped him, and as part of his plan, his Death Eaters Polyjuiced themselves into me, and…" Albus paused, swallowed once and then he softly continued. "And, as you so crudely put it, my swimmers fortunately got there first. I'm searching for him because he'll be dead before long due to the spell used. It has a very high mortality rate."

"You haven't admitted what you did to him. You did something that caused his decision to escape from you using the Knight Bus," Aberforth reminded Albus.

"The Knight Bus? You saw him take the Knight Bus? _**When**_?" Albus questioned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't tell you as the man looked bollocksed. I figured he got tired of being your bloody whipping boy and decided to take a nice seaside holiday. Was about a month or so ago, probably the night he disappeared. Mattie might remember the date," Aberforth stated.

At Albus' quirked eyebrow, Aberforth felt need to defend his friend. "Mattie's a right smart goat. He does my accounts at Hog's Head. I was never good at long division… So, why did he leave you? Because you didn't give a damn about him? Were you were more concerned about the embarrassment he was soon to become?"

"No, I overwhelmed him with my generosity. I know that previously, I neglected my responsibilities…"

Aberforth snorted, but other than that, left Albus' confession uncommented, and Albus' boots unspat upon.

"So I bought him clothes, gave him books… and completely ignored Minerva's requests that I back off from this rather delicate situation."

"Should have listened to Minerva," Aberforth sagely decided. "Should have married her also. She would have straightened you up, and knocked your pride down to manageable levels. I quite _**enjoy**_ her."

"Minerva was too smart to marry me," Albus retorted. "I convinced him that it would be best for our daughter…"

"A girl? You're having a _daughter_? 'Zounds! That poor baby girl is doomed, having you and Severus as her fathers! She'll be forever a spinster if you two dress her. I hope Minerva McGonagall will be willing to clothe her. She looks smart; though keep her away from the tartans. She's got a fetish for them."

"Minerva agreed to be Godmother…" quickly inserted Albus. "While the ceremony wasn't completed, I'm sure she'll be quite willing to dress the babe."

"Dispensing the role of Godparents already, are we? I hope you're planning on asking me to be Godfather," Aberforth demanded.

Truthfully, the thought had never crossed Albus' mind. In the rare carefree moments when he had time to think of such happy things, Albus had wondered about the possibility of Elphias as Godfather. He was Godfather to Elphias and Leah's oldest son, and it would be nice to reciprocate the honor… though naturally, Severus would need to weigh in on the decision.

"You desire to be her Godfather?" Albus questioned. His head was still spinning and he wasn't sure that he had heard Aberforth correctly.

"Somebody needs to protect her from you," retorted his brother. "You've got Minerva and me, we'll keep your head screwed on straight and make sure that you behave. Minerva can magic you into behaving, and I can physically beat some sense into you."

Albus was quiet, debating how Severus would react to the news that Albus had unilaterally decided that Aberforth would be their daughter's Godfather. He would not be happy…

"You know, I never understand why you let me beat you up. You being such a powerful, almighty smart-arse wizard, you could Hex me," Aberforth admitted. "Yet you let me break your nose and give you two black eyes!"

"It's your brotherly prerogative to physically knock some sense into me," Albus confessed. "Though I've thought that we've long since reached the age where fistfights are unnecessary to settle our disagreements."

"You've got a hard head," his younger brother sagely informed him. "You need your skull cracked open to let common sense into it."

Truly, tonight was rather remarkable. He needed to let Aberforth whack away on him more often. It appeared that being bartender to the dodgy souls at the Hog's Head had turned Aberforth into Albus' very own Agony Aunt Aberforth.

"While I would be delighted to have you as Godfather, I truly must ask Severus for his input," Albus admitted.

"You're _**learning**_," approvingly muttered Aberforth. "You don't wear the trousers in this particular relationship. Severus does, as he's the one spawning. But you were saying? Before I was accepting the role of Godfather?"

Albus inwardly shivered and prayed that Severus would understand why Aberforth had declared himself the Godfather.

"If we were Bonded, I'd be able to easier support him through this. Minerva thoroughly castigated me and opened my eyes to the unmistakable truth that instead of merely helping him, I was terrorizing and bullying him into agreeing with my desires. I agreed that Bonding Severus might not be the best for him. Minerva told him…"

"You lacked the bollocks to tell him yourself?" Aberforth's voice rose in his disbelief.

"Sshh… you'll wake Mattie! Minerva and Severus are quite close, and I thought that it would be better if she spoke with him. I had also been banned from the infirmary and thought it would be best if I actually obeyed the ban. Severus trusts Minerva, and he has sufficient reason not to put much confidence in me or my word. He did a runner, Aberforth, and I need to find him before Voldemort does."

"I'll look for him, as I want to save my goddaughter from him," Aberforth stated. "Now, since you're to be a father, I think this news calls for a celebratory drink."

Aberforth disappeared and quickly returned with a small glass bottle.

"Fire-whisky?" Albus questioned.

"For this, we won't be using that weasel-water. I brew this myself," Aberforth proudly admitted before warning his brother, "May knock you on your arse."

He poured the liquor into two small glasses and Albus wasn't surprised to see a small mushroom cloud appear over the liquor. He was quite familiar with his brother's experiments, after all. The cloud quickly dissipated and then Aberforth handed him a glass.

"To my Goddaughter! May she have better fashion sense that her fathers!"

"May she be born healthy," Albus responded. "And may Severus survive the ordeal."

They clinked their glasses together and Albus gulped down the drink. The drink was quite tasty, so he agreed to another drink… and then another… and then… yet another…

That's all that he remembered until the next morning when he woke in Aberforth's bed, nestled next to Mattie the goat, who gave him a cheery bleat of greeting.

* * *


	26. Chapter 26

A/N # 1 – Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

A/N # 2 – This story took a left turn a while back and Minerva's role developed in a way I wasn't expecting.

A/N # 3 – Thanks to Linz, EP and MM for their help.

* * *

"On the scale," ordered the witch. Severus did so, but gave Oxana a disapproving scowl when she leaned over to read the numbers.

"I _**can**_ read the numbers to you," he sniped.

"I know, but I hate feeling superfluous. Now, I understand that this makes you very uncomfortable, but will you put this in your mouth?" was her next command, only slightly camouflaged as a polite request.

She held an ebony-colored rod in her hand, and an apprehensive Severus instinctively swallowed.

"It's a choice of three evils, you know. Either I give you a physical exam, scan you with my wand or use Dr. Dexter Deville's Diagnostic Dowel. Considering the not insignificant fact that you nearly murdered Sasha during a Reiki session, I'd personally feel safer if you used the dowel. We're in uncharted territory with you, and Sasha wants daily monitoring."

Severus took the dowel from her and he gingerly placed it on his mouth, unsuccessful in repressing painful memories.

_Albus smiling down at him, his hands were rough as he pried apart Severus' clenched jaws._

"_In it goes," the faux Albus whispered. Then deliberately, in order to complete Severus' degradation, he dramatically let loose a loud gasp of obscene pleasure. "For being such a sarcastic git, you have a surprisingly soft mouth."_

_No, the Headmaster wasn't a screamer. The real Headmaster's voice had been soft and tender… even… even…_

"Adrik…" her tone was apologetic; Severus welcomed her interruption as he was able to break away from his dark, obsessive thoughts.

He nodded his head to acknowledge her regret and he began to suck on the rod, counting down from 180.

_180….I know… 179…. It wasn't you, Headmaster. 178…. It was never you … 177… you never hit me… 176… you promised that you cared for me….175… lies, sweet sounding lies. _

After far too long, Oxana nodded, which meant he could remove it. She took the wand and tapped it against a blank parchment where the readings began to appear.

"Your sugar level is good, as are your renal, pulmonary, and hepatic functions," the witch approvingly stated. "But your blood pressure is high and you've lost weight. Plus, it says that you didn't get a sufficient amount of sleep last night. Nightmares?"

"I had some rather unusual dreams which made it difficult for me to sleep." Severus was willing to admit that and no more.

Unusual?

Try down right bizarre!

A bloody and battered Albus Dumbledore had been nursing a full grown goat with a baby's bottle and Minerva and Horace had been busy breaking Minerva's bed slats. Those strange dreams had been mixed with his usual nightmares over how he had spent his winter holidays entertaining the troops plus there had been a new dark addition. The merry, bloodstained trio of Damyan, Toma and Rada had been having a spot of tea in Damyan's parlor while they excitedly relived the Dieppe Raid of 1942. Dieppe; when the legendary, rumored to be undefeatable _French Magische Liga van Defensie_ had gone down with barely a whimper to the troika.

_I have to remember who and what Damyan truly is. _

_Yes, he claims innocence in the death of his wife and child, but there are too many other incidents that he does not bother to deny. Gellert's modus operandi was simple, to promote the discord between the Allied and the Axis Muggle Powers so that they'd completely annihilate each other. His supporters would watch the Muggles battle and then carefully sabotage the best laid plans just to increase the carnage. _

_When the Japanese Emperor surrendered, there was a failed military coup d'état that attempted to overthrow the government to prevent it. While Kenji Hatanaka is seen by the Muggles as the leader of that failed rebellion, I know that one of Gellert's Japanese mages stirred up that doomed insurrection just to prolong the war. Was that mage Byakko?_

_Can I trust Damyan, truly? Am I not the perfect distraction for the Headmaster, the blasted Ministry and the Dark Lord? How do I know that he's not responsible for the Polyjuiced clones of me that are running amuck? Sooner or later there will be a time when the Dark Lord and the Order meet, and will they not annihilate themselves? The weakened remains would be easy pickings for Gellert's followers. _

"Time for breakfast," Oxana informed Severus. "Sasha's created quite the nutritional plan for you. Your body is merrily consuming itself to support the child, so you need to eat a bit more."

Eating a bit more found Severus inhaling a meal that Hagrid would have been unable to finish. With no trouble, Severus finished a mountain of eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, tomatoes, mushrooms, black and white pudding plus spanachena banitsa which was some sort of tasty Bulgarian pastry with cheese and spinach.

"Full?" Oxana questioned after she watched Severus tuck away enough food for a dozen hungry Quidditch players.

"I don't think I'll be able to eat for a week," Severus admitted. Then slowly, damning his pride for making it so difficult to accept help, he thanked her for mollycoddling him. "Thank you for cutting my food."

While he loathed the necessity of having Oxana cut his food, his left arm was still quite uncooperative. He could wiggle his fingers slightly and scratch his nose, but silverware was quite beyond him.

"You'll be starving by elvenses," predicted Oxana. "But let's talk about your salary."

* * *

Oxana Kameneva haggled like a fish monger, charging him for food, board, medical care, clothing and… Merlin help him… there was a whole category for 'miscellaneous incidental expenses' which didn't include the 'Pendant, protection; magical, jade' which was now nestled against his skin. The expenses were split between his two paychecks so he was collecting a pittance in both currencies.

_Two_ paychecks. He was being paid in both Muggle and Magical currencies. He wasn't sure how the knut-pinching Oxana had managed to ensure that he was paid as his mind was reeling from her creative accounting.

Debits, credits, expenditures and accruals? What the bloody hell was she talking about?

He would be a bloody stockboy, stocking shelves in Serendipity with assorted new age cack for gullible Muggles. Once he learned the floor plan and if he could prove to them that he could handle the strange Muggle currency, they'd put him on the _**cash register**_. For that onerous chore, he'd earn the bare minimum plus room and board. But in his spare time, he would be Aleksandar Zoravkov's apprentice. Depending on his ability to assist Sasha in his potion making, he'd be compensated accordingly.

He was reduced to being a bloody_** Apprentice**_. Scrubbing out cauldrons, cutting up roots. Perhaps if he could manage it one-armed, he could sweep the floor?

Sweeping the floors was not the biggest insult to Severus' pride.

The fact that Sasha was a bloody Ministry of Magic Certified Potions Master who sold to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary was. One had to jump through hoops to become a Ministry Certified Potions Master and Sasha had effortlessly passed on his _**first**_ attempt.

Yes, a mass murdering Dark Wizard responsible for the death of thousands had gotten certified by the pinheads at the Ministry. That stuck in his gullet, sideways, providing hours of mental indigestion as Severus had been _**repeatedly**_ deemed unsuitable for such certification due to his past. Out of a perverse, stubborn need to persevere, Severus had unrelentingly resubmit the required parchments until one day the Ministry had capitulated due to the Headmaster's obscene need to meddle. He had never bothered to thank Dumbledore for his assistance in the matter as he wasn't supposed to know of Albus' involvement.

Even now, Sasha was entertaining some unbelievably obtuse Ministry Official who was measuring the thickness of his cauldrons in order to recertify his shop.

The bitter fact remained that he owed Sasha and Oxana a great deal of money even after the witch's inventive accounting. For all the money he was earning, he'd be as good as pissing the money in the wind for the next century to pay off the debt as Oxana had tacked on _compound interest_.

Yes, the dangerous duo had saved his life when he collapsed half-dead in the alleyway. He couldn't begrudge them wanting payment. After all, Sasha had managed to convince his stump of a left arm to bud. But treatment by Sasha with copious assistance from Oxana was so ruddy expensive. Damn shame Sasha wasn't part of the National Health System, so Severus could just give the Healer his National Health Number that he possessed courtesy of his bastard of a Muggle father.

Ah, but it would be hard to explain the male pregnancy and reappearance of a missing arm.

It wasn't as though it was a virgin birth!

His life, simply put, wasn't worth the price they were charging, but Ari… Ari was worth every knut and more…including the overpriced jade pendant. The Headmaster could have easily paid Severus' bill by emptying one of his many vaults at Gringotts.

A reason why Severus should have stayed at Hogwarts; yet another motive why Severus most assuredly couldn't have stayed in his gilded prison.

Albus would easily buy Ari's love and affection, leaving Severus completely bereft. Naturally, he couldn't blame Ari for being fickle, as Albus could easily give her everything a little girl would want… he'd be able to buy her a unicorn if she so desired one.

That's what little girls wanted, right?

Cute and fuzzy things, like crup puppies and unicorns, perhaps a soft, cuddly demiguise cub of their very own…. Little girls didn't want to learn the best way to ground scarab beetles or dig for roots. That was all for which Severus was good for besides being her incubator. Certainly, he'd never be able to complete with Dumbledore for Ari's affection, so it was best for Severus that he'd be long dead before the purple-hued unicorn arrived.

Yes, he had vowed to escape from Dumbledore, but he knew better. Albus would move heaven and earth to find his daughter, and Severus owed Sasha and Oxana several Life Debts if not more. He would need to protect them from Albus. They had taken in him, sheltered him and healed him. It would be the height of rudeness to die and leave them dealing with an enraged Dumbledore. He needed to figure out a plan… but his mind… it was racing in circles.

"I'll never be able to pay you back," Severus finally admitted after a soft cough from Oxana interrupted his dark thoughts.

"Ah, but that's where the bonus system comes in," chirped Oxana. "Keep wiggling your fingers, Adrik."

Severus industriously wiggled his fingers just to prove to Oxana that they were working.

"Yes, the bonus system. I'm sure that I can earn a tidy windfall by neatly arranging all of Sasha's shelves," stated Severus. "Let us not forget the monetary potential in dusting."

"Don't be daft," Oxana sniped, sounding so much like Minerva that Severus unexpectedly found himself longing for the witch. "You've got an education that's far more current than ours. You'll teach me the newest charms and show Sasha the latest potions. He's quite excited about having you here as he can chat about potions. You can be useful around here and we plan on working you _**hard**_. We'll reward you quite generously for anything you might be able to teach us. Not just potions, mind you, but if you can actually teach us how to fly, well, you'll be halfway to paying off your debt."

"Only halfway? I think learning to fly is worth far more than merely half of my expenses," Severus protested. He kept his tone even, not wanting to share the hope that their conversation had given him.

_Oxana believes that I can be useful around here._ _I can teach them what I know, what I've learned and what I've discovered. Sasha is some forty years behind the times, he's not current on the latest in potions. He voraciously reads, but I have hands on experience with the latest ingredients… I can earn a salary… I can buy things for Ari, nice things…so even after I'm gone, she'll have something from me. It won't be a purple unicorn, but it will be __**something**__. _

_She'll know that I loved her. Minerva, my dear, sweet, Minerva will be economical with the truth, so perhaps, Ari would not be horrified by my role in her existence. _

"Too bad you're the patient so you have no say," she reminded him. "Let's show you the shop and then introduce you to the wards."

* * *

"I'm sure you noticed the over abundance of dragons sculptures?" questioned Oxana as they began the tour of the house. Like all magical houses, it was far bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. "It's a rather strange affection for someone who is trying to remain undiscovered, don't you agree?"

There were dragons sprinkled throughout the house, or the little that Severus had seen of it. His universe, until now, had consisted of his bedroom, the loo, the kitchen and the hallway in-between. But now that Oxana had mentioned it, there was a snoozing Chinese dragon with five toes in his bedroom that sat on the nightstand, a bashful dragon in the loo and a rather jolly, roly poly dragon in the kitchen.

"I had noticed it," he admitted, as he touched his jade dragon pendant.

"They are Sasha's wards. If there's any trouble, put your hand on one and say, '_Mühe'_ and someone will show up, wand ablastin', questions to be asked later if anything survives the carnage. Yes, Mühe is German, because they were a gift from Gellert," Oxana explained. "After our company is gone, we'll show the safe room. If all hell breaks lose or the Dragon wakes, retreat back there. It's specially constructed to withstand Sasha's temper tantrums."

"One day, you must tell me the sordid story on how a Russian Auror ended up in Manchester," Severus said.

"Short version? I was sent out alone as my superiors believed he was alive. I located him, and we played cat and mouse for five years. Sasha was such a daft prat. He would buy me drinks, send me flowers for my birthday and one year, he even bought me Grisha for a Michaelmas gift. He thought I truly needed someone to watch my back." Oxana growled in annoyance. "That really angered me, but I kept Grisha as trained Archangel cats are rare and quite dear."

"Got jumped in a dark alleyway by a group of dark wizard wannabes who thought I'd be the perfect blood sacrifice to start their coven. I'm quite talented, but one against thirteen? Not so good. Stabbed with a cursed blade in the back. Next thing I know, I'm lying facedown in Sasha's bed and he was doctoring me. It appears that once Grisha knew I needed help, he found the closest wizard able to help me, which was… Sasha. The Dragon woke as I was _**his**_ personal Russian Auror and he kindly slaughtered the six wizards that I had left for him."

Oxana shook her head.

"They're not even sure how many people attacked me, as the coven wannabes were reduced to little itty bitty pieces. I was Fundamentally Bonded to him while I was Healed, so I can't leave him even if I have the desire to do so.

"Fundamentally Bonded?" Severus repeated. Fundamentally Bonds were a modified Compulsion. Oxana couldn't leave Sasha, couldn't reveal his location and she was required to have daily contact with him in order to live. Merlin's beard, was he _**Bonded**_? He wouldn't be able to return back to Hogwarts if he decided to do so.

No, he had made the decision not to return. He shouldn't even contemplate otherwise, but damn it. If Albus got Ari, would he be content to leave Sasha and Oxana alone? Or would he take revenge on them for sheltering Severus?

Yes, Albus _**would**_. Behind that doddering, barmy mage façade lurked a proud man who did not appreciate being scorned. Oxana was continuing her story, so he decided to focus on that, rather than the thought of an enraged Dumbledore.

"When I found out that I was stuck with him for the remainder of my life, I delightedly made his life utter hell for a decade or so. When I got bored with _**that**_, I decided to seduce him, but to do so leisurely in order to drive him barmy. Russian Aurors are trained to use _everything_ in the battle against evil," the witch candidly explained. She shook her head and sighed at her stupidity. "As you're well aware, throwing sex into a relationship can cause unforeseen complications."

"Plus weight gain," Severus added. His dry quip gave Oxana great amusement.

"That's the sad, sordid story of how a Russian Auror was seduced to the Dark Side. Sometimes, I wonder how much the old Ekaterina would despise the current Ekaterina, but the very thought of Sasha unfettered? Makes my blood run cold."

"Am I Bonded also?" Severus questioned.

"No, you're too weak and Fundamental Bonds are contraindicated in pregnant witches as it adversely affects the foetus. However if you do escape, you won't be able to reveal anything about your time here to Dumbledore or the Aurors. Come on, the shop awaits, and Sasha is hoping that you'll have a favorable analysis of his Potions Lab. He's combined Muggle Technology with Magic to make it a lab unlike anything in the known world. _Potions Masters Digest_ desires to do a feature on it," Oxana proudly stated.

He followed her through the winding maze of the house. On the outside, it appeared to be merely a ground floor and basement shop premises with two bed accommodations above. Inside the ground floor, or should he say outside, there was a herb garden, a vegetable patch, a plot full of Muggles roses and a garden full of exotic magical flora that Severus knew that Pomona Sprout would be sobbing into her tea for having missed.

Grisha met the two of them at the door to the shop. He chirped and chattered at them before offering a "Pgrowl?"

"Thank you," Oxana said. "I'll give you a treat later. Translated, Grisha just informed me that Sasha still has a guest, but he should be leaving soon. Ministry official, but he'll never identify you. Your own mother wouldn't recognize you."

"My mother wouldn't notice Merlin if he stripped naked and tweaked her nose," he spat. Then in a calmer tone, Severus explained, "She's in a persistent vegetative state after an accidental fall."

_Yes, an accidental push down a flight of steps by my drunken sot of a father… Don't you worry, Ari, you'll never meet either of them. I'd never subject you to my family. _

"You must be so worried about her," the witch empathized.

How could he possibly be worried about a woman that couldn't have made any less of an effort for her son? Severus had done more than right by her as he had gave her the best hospice care he could afford. If the roles had been reversed, Eileen would have let him lie facedown in the gutter until the rats gnawed at his bones.

"No, I'm not particularly worried as her prognosis is poor. There's nothing that can be done for her, so it is not necessary for me to worry about her condition getting worse," Severus stated. "I have another, more pressing concern. You understand, do you not? She is _**everything**_ to me."

He put his right hand over his still somewhat flat belly.

_I will do whatever is necessary for you to survive.  
_  
"Yes, I understand. Come, Sasha's potions lab awaits," the witch announced.

* * *

The ginger haired Ministry official, Mercy Weasley… no.., Percy… congratulated the Dark Wizard on having a well run lab. After so many decades of licensing renewals, the names of the examiners all blurred into one, but he had to admit that this Weasley chap was quite thorough. Plus the examiner was quite impressed with the Muggle modifications Sasha had enacted in his lab, and had asked proper questions that showed he was truly interested in hearing Sasha's answers.

Sasha was quite vain regarding his lab, and for someone to express an interest, well, he'd be delighted to talk off their ear.

"If it wasn't for that one cracked vial, your renewal evaluation would have been perfect," Percy exclaimed. "Your cauldrons are all the proper thickness, which is amazing. Not enough Potions Masters care about that!"

"I knew someone that had a cauldron explode because it was worn away. Terrible, terrible loss," exclaimed Sasha in suitably mournful tones. "Exploded and the solution ate away his face. Shame as he was a handsome chap. Well, before the explosion."

As expected, Weasley agreed with him.

"It is a shame that I didn't notice that small crack, as I have yet to perfect the Ministry's exacting standards," admitted Sasha. Actually, he had deliberately cracked the vial earlier that morning. It was his modus operandi, to always make the examiner have to work, but not too hard, to find a minor imperfection. That way the examiner would be quite happy to leave his shop and go spend significantly less effort haranguing someone else.

Sasha was a tad knackered after an impromptu spell casting session with Byakko and he mourned the loss of his youthful energy. His brother mage had spent the night adding additional Warding to the shop and house deliberately attuned to the magic of the mixbreed Filius Fitwick. If the diminutive mage attempted to locate Severus using his goblin-tinted magic, he and his agents would be so gently repelled off the shields that he'd hopefully never realize that he was five hundred kilometers in the wrong direction.

The Pièce de résistance of the entire night of spellcasting?

A jade dragon pendant which would allow Severus to exit from the shop without being escorted by either Oxana or himself.

The boy was his apprentice, which meant that Sasha would make him work and work hard. Severus couldn't be confined to the shop for the fear of St. Albus and his cronies locating him as he had important duties. Obtaining orange currant scones and crumpets with lemon curd for his afternoon tea for Sasha's afternoon tea was a vital function to keep the shop running at utmost efficiency.

"I understood that you have taken on an apprentice?" Weasley questioned. He scribbled down something on his pad.

"He's actually not a true apprentice. Adrik's my grand-nephew and he was in a bad accident. Just helping him get back on his feet again, but it will be awhile before he is capable of running his own lab. When that happens, we'll ensure that he's licensed through the Ministry. He has his certification from Durmstrang. Do you wish to examine it?" Sasha questioned.

He handed over the faux certificate to Weasley, who as Sasha expected, carefully examined it, even though the document was in the Old Tongue, Faroese.

"There's a reciprocity agreement," Percy reminded Sasha as he handed back the certificate. "If everything is in order, he need not go through the entire examination."

"I know, but when I first obtain my license, I took the full exams rather than the easy way out so I expect Adrik to also," assured Sasha. "There's a significant difference in policies and since I'm now here, and not there, I must follow the current standards completely. Potions are an exact science, Mr. Weasley. With that hard won credential, I can assure my customers that I'm as first-rate as any Hogwarts trained Potions Master."

"I think you and my former Potions instructor would get along famously," admitted Percy. "Though he's bit of a purist. I'm not sure how he'd react to your Muggle adaptations."

"Air filtration systems are helpful. I don't want to be stricken with either Potions Pleurisy or Cauldron Cough," Sasha said. "Potions brewing can be a nasty business, and the occupational hazards are many."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Sasha saw that Severus and Oxana had entered the lab. A slight narrowing of the boy's eyes when he saw who was in the lab but otherwise, Severus seemed unaffected.

_Ah, yes, he had taught Percy. _

"Mr. Weasley, may I have the pleasure of introducing my grand-nephew, Adrik? Adrik, this is Percy Weasley from the Ministry. He was just completing the recertification of our lab, and I believe that he was about to assure me that we had passed inspection?"

The two men awkwardly shook using their right hands.

"Yes, you have passed inspection. It's been a pleasure examining your shop," Percy assured him. "It's a shame that you're retiring. The loss of your great uncle's potions skills will be felt for some time, Adrik."

"I need to move someplace where it is warm. My old bones can't take the dampness," Sasha explained.

They exchanged their goodbyes, and then Weasley left the shop. Sasha crossed his arm and looked Severus up and down, and then sideways.

"You're _**late**_," Sasha growled. "I expected you thirty minutes ago. I will not tolerate _**tardiness**_. Your tools are over there, so set up your work station and be quick about it. You have to get off your lazy arse and start earning your keep. What did Deville's Dowell decide?"

* * *

Oxana and Sasha discussed the results of his exam but Severus decided not to listen. Sasha had chided him for being _**late**_.

_**LATE**_.

Thirty minutes late? He was told ten thirty was his starting time and Severus had gotten there at ten thirty three. If Weasley hadn't been there, bloody blocking the door, he would have been on time. Should he have barreled in and knocked Weasley to the ground?

Damn it, Sasha reminded Severus of nothing more than himself as he would have taken House points for tardiness.

"Your tools are in the wooden box," Sasha growled. "Come now, time is fleeting and I'm getting older with every second that passes. I have a project for you and your lackadaisical manner does not impress me in the slightest. I thought you were a Potions Master, not a lazy school boy."

Severus schooled his features and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. He put his right hand on the wooden chest and his heart skipped a beat when he recognized the material. It was a rune-carved mahogany chest. Not just a cheap pine box, but _**mahogany **_with chiseledsigils of protection against the various potential mishaps of a Potions Master's trade. The box had been recently polished as it was burnished reddish brown, but he could tell… this was a family heirloom.

"Well, are you just planning on gawking at it? Oxana, I expect you to properly dock his salary for all the time he's spent staring at the bloody box. Hasn't even opened it yet!"

Carefully, he opened the unexpectedly light box to find the various appurtenances of his trade. It had been bespelled, so it was far larger on the inside than it was on the outside. Three silver knives… bloody _**Faberge**_ silver knives, measuring cups of brass, silver, gold and platinum, loupes of various magnitudes, mortars and pestles of various materials, assorted scissors to cut roots, a mincer… It was a Master's set of the highest quality, and he never would have been able to afford it on his Hogwarts Salary.

But that wasn't it. No, not at all.

Oh Merlin, there were dragon hide gloves, a dragon hide apron… and… sweet mother of Merlin, a bespelled surcoat of dragon hide which opened in the back. He'd need help putting it on, but it would protect his belly from burns and cauldron explosions.

Yes, it was another debt to be added to his tally but _**such**_ a compilation of tools.

"I am overwhelmed…" Severus whispered. "I do not know how to properly thank you. I fear that I will never be able to repay you for this."

"The set's yours as its previous owner is no longer in need of it. Since it was just sitting around, unused, taking up valuable counter space I thought you might utilize it. It's not being added to your reckoning as it's an heirloom with no family left," growled Sasha. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not getting soft… I plan on working you _**hard**_ and I don't want to worry about you nicking my equipment."

Oxana softly snorted her derision over Sasha's caustic protestations.

"Well, no one's using the set, and he needs his own ruddy tools!"

The Dark Wizard grumbled and growled before he stormed off to the root cellar. Oxana gave a confused Severus a secretive wink but the witch carefully schooled her features into a respectable mien before Sasha returned.

"Ready to work off your debt?" Oxana questioned.

"Yes," Severus assured her. His right hand was stroking the smooth mahogany and he realized that he was quite keen to start brewing. Perhaps the first order of business might be a healing draught to help Sasha in his business?

Yes. Sasha had commented on a rheumatic Muggle that stopped in frequently for an infusion to help him with his joint pain. He was a regular customer and due again tomorrow. Perhaps, he could suggest a modification? Lost in thought on how to improve Sasha's infusion, he didn't notice Sasha had returned and he was carrying a basketful of green plants. The Bulgarian dropped the basket in front of Severus, and the two Archangel cats jumped onto Severus' table to supervise.

A disappointed Severus recognized what exactly was in the basket.

Catnip? He had to _**mince**_ catnip for the fuzzy familiars? How could it get worse?

"Mince this. Nadya and Grisha both prefer it fine," instructed Sasha. "If you can satisfy them, you'll be moved onto other projects that are backlogged due to you."

"Nadya's a bit more particular," offered Oxana. "Females usually are."

"I just don't let _**anyone**_ make catnip for Grisha and Nadya," thundered Sasha. "Now get to work! Then, when you're done and I'm happy, you're to go to the bakery down the street and pick up my scones for my afternoon tea."

Whatever anger he might have felt over being made Sasha's Scone Boy was negated by the fact that his belly decided at that moment to growl loudly. Ariana was a Harsh Mistress and she desired to be fed.

"Bloody hell," Sasha growled. He rummaged in his pockets and threw a handful of Muggle currency at Severus. "Oxana, take my hungry apprentice to the bakery and get him fed. I don't want him **_fainting _**from hunger. I'm already spending more money on him and he hasn't made me any money yet!"

Oxana began laughing in earnest and Severus just shook his head. Sasha and Oxana was bloody barmy and he'd never understand them.

And so began Severus' apprenticeship with Aleksandar Zoravkov. The two men argued, fought and decried the other's lack of potion skills with great vigor. Still, Severus managed to pull the protesting hidebound Sasha into the current era of potion making while Severus was forced to develop a profound respect for Muggle herbal remedies.

* * *

A/N # 4 – Ellie.

Aberforth wasn't made Godfather yet.

He was made guardian in a fit of whimsy by Albus after Poppy, Severus and Minerva attempted to outmaneuver Albus in the infirmary. Severus obsessed on the idea a wee bit much as he's a might stressed. Yes, Toma, Byakko and Rada were a wee bit boring in the previous chapter, but I had to introduce them, else you'd wonder who the big blonde guy was when he started slaughtering people. As for their attitudes, I thought the Brotherhood should be 180 degrees from the Death Eaters who always seemed to be too stupid to fight their way out a paper bag.

A/N # 5 - Yes, there's a reason why Percy was introduced.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N # 1 – Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.

A/N # 2 – This story took a left turn a while back and Minerva's role developed in a way I wasn't expecting.

A/N # 3 – Thanks to Linz, EP and MM for their help.

This is really part 2 of Chapter 26.

* * *

Normally, Albus quite enjoyed the changing of the seasons, especially when the wet, dreary days of the Scottish winters warmed and lengthened into spring. His mood would have further lifted as the summer days approached but for one Nymphadora Tonks Lupin.

Actually, her burgeoning belly.

Her belly was a painful, pregnant reminder that Severus and the child to be were still missing.

It wasn't though he could forget Severus, not even for a moment. When Dumbledore slept, his nonsensical imaginings were full of Severus. What was the significance of Minerva petting a unicorn foal of the most outlandish hues while a hysterical Severus cursed and screamed at him? While normally Albus was rather partial to the color purple, a lavender unicorn was just a Technicolor crime against nature.

The harsh sounds of Severus' frenzied screams haunted Albus during his waking hours.

'_You're not getting her until I'm dead'_?

And the worst dreams… where Severus endured the unspeakable while a sobbing Albus screamed and pleaded for Severus to believe that it wasn't him, that Albus would never relish inflicting such cruelties on him. Weeping uncontrollably, he'd wake from those nightmares and Fawkes would be there to comfort and console him.

The Severus sightings continued, but not quite as frequently as before, but he no longer requested the increasingly reluctant Order Members to investigate. Instead, an exhausted Albus went to each sighting acknowledging that he needed to get there before the Aurors did, accepting in his mind that it wasn't Severus, but still hoping in his heart that this time, it just might be …. But Severus was never was his Severus.

The green and silver baby blanket had long since been finished, as had the sweaters of assorted hues, the robes, the caps and other wardrobe essentials, and they all had been safely stored away in a large chest. As the days lengthened, Albus was still unable to sleep through the night, so the clothing had been augmented by a literal zoo of knitted animals; a dozen or so snakes, bright emerald green and silver, a goat and a shaggy lion. But the ruler of his knitted menagerie? A rather floppy Phoenix.

While Fawkes had loudly tittered and disparaged his knitted Doppelgänger, claiming that it was at best, a pale, stringy imitation of him, Albus secretly believed that Fawkes quite liked it. He often found the knitted Phoenix had seemingly taken flight from where he had last witnessed it and in places that only a winged companion could have placed it. Perhaps the child would not mind if he gave it to Fawkes?

But after his burst of obsessive knitting brought him no relief and no Severus, Albus regretfully slowed his needles, as there was only so much knitting a man could do before he went astray in the head and there was only so much yarn available in Scotland. Besides knitting, there were also other pressing issues that demanded much of his time, and so regretfully, he focused on them. Hogwarts had OWLs and NEWTS for which to prepare and next year there were sweeping curriculum changes to help prepare the young witches and wizards for the changing world. There was Voldemort, the Ministry… and the unhappy situation involving Eileen Prince….

The staff of the hospice and Madam Poppy Pomfrey both agreed that Severus' mother was deteriorating. There was no doubt in their highly qualified opinions that her condition was irreversible. Her body was too stubborn to realize the truth of the matter so her heart continued to beat and her lungs persisted in breathing. It would be only a matter of time… days… weeks… perhaps a few months at the very most… but it might be a kindness… to assist Eileen on her way.

Objectively, Albus understood why they suggested euthanasia. There was the possibility that some small part of Eileen was in pain, perhaps in intractable agony. Would Eileen have wanted to live… no… _**survive**_ … like this? To be reduced to a constricted, twisted physical shell lacking all awareness of the world around her?

Somehow, he doubted it.

Would it not be a kindness to release her from her earthly torment?

But yet, Albus feared to face Severus.

For _**when **_Severus returned_**, **_when he_** must return, **_when he had_** PROMISED **_to return_**,**_ how could Albus cavalierly inform Severus that he had made the unilateral decision to dispatch his mother to the afterlife? Some would accept that it was an act of mercy, but Albus did not know Severus' closely held opinion on this delicate matter. In all the years he had known Severus, Snape had rarely mentioned his mother. Respecting Severus' silence on the matter, believing the matter was too painful for him to feel comfortable discussing, Albus had never pressed the issue. Now, now… Albus damned himself for not conversing about the matter with the taciturn Severus.

Therefore, having no clear input on what Severus would prefer, Albus refused their suggestions, and then, when the matter was again mentioned to him, he not-so-gently reminded the hospice of a simple truth. Eileen's bills were paid for the next few years if they were fearful of not being paid? That comment offended them as they prided themselves on their care, and so they left him alone for a few weeks.

Truly, Albus should never have that made that comment. Part of the role of hospice was helping grieving family members accept that death was the natural finish to life well-lived. Perhaps that was key to the difficulties he was facing. For Eileen's life had not been particularly well-lived. No, it had been a painful succession of verbal abuse, broken bones, contusions and lacerations. First, her parents and then Tobias.

The more Albus learned about Eileen, the better he found himself comprehending the enigma known as Severus.

Specialists were brought in who confirmed the grim prognosis; in response, he ordered a new mattress that would cradle and support her in comfort, as though she was back in the womb. Magical tests were ordered, and he pored over the results which stated unequivocally that Eileen's brain was severely damaged and that she was completely unaware. In turn, he then hired attendants who talked to her in the off chance that some small part of Eileen was aware. Music was played, aromatherapy was utilized and massage treatments were continued.

In her final days, Albus desired that Eileen be cared for and protected as she had not been in her life.

Every day found him visiting Eileen, making time in his full schedule through the copious use of a Time Turner. These outings found Albus talking to her about how proud she should be of Severus, and on rare occasions, Fawkes also gave impromptu concerts which seemed to ease Eileen into a deeper slumber. He also carefully exchanged her bright woolen socks and her mittens to clean pairs every time he visited. On one of his first visits, Albus had noticed that her clenched hands were cyanotic and cold and the staff had agreed to his suggestion of mittens and socks. It will do her no harm was their response.

Today, she had a touch of fever, and her breath rattled in her chest. Her pale cheeks were flushed, and she drooled onto the knitted bear that he had made for her.

_Pneumonia_.

In her current reduced state, Albus feared that it could be fatal.

Tenderly, he tucked the bright afghan around Eileen's twisted frame. It had originally started off as a baby blanket, but after one long night of compulsive knitting too many; Albus had discovered that it would only be suitable for a Hagrid-sized baby. So, he had given it to Eileen. The afghan placed just so, he then traced a sigil for a blessing on her forehead. It wasn't much, but it was all he could do for Severus' mother.

He chatted about various Severus related incidents until his voice was hoarse. To rest his voice, Dumbledore sat in silence for a bit, debating Minerva. Accepting the bitter truth that he had wounded her in his zealous desire to help Severus, Albus had decided it best to withdraw from her, keeping counsel with only Fawkes. Merlin knew how much he felt Minerva's absence in his life as he relied heavily on her keen insight and her sense of humor to keep him focused, but Albus thought it best that he allow her to heal.

_As he hadn't allowed Severus._

Had Minerva found Severus? She and Horace's supposedly torrid relationship, which had been a cover for their clandestine searching for Severus, had significantly cooled in the last three months.

Perhaps they had found him?

_**Yes**_, they must have located him. That would explain why Minerva often disappeared for hours at a time by herself and why Horace only occasionally escorted her offsite. For the first time in far too long, he felt a spark of hope, and Fawkes responded by joyfully breaking into spontaneous song.

Merlin be praised, Minerva had discovered where that foreign mage had stashed Severus.

Tonight, he would speak to Minerva, inform her of Eileen's precarious status and ask her to find out what Severus desired in the matter. He'd swear on Fawkes that he'd stay away from the traumatized Severus, but it was imperative for him to discover what Severus wished for his mother's treatment.

"Master Dumbledore?" Sister Elizabeth spoke from the door. "I need to speak to you."

The time had come to make a painful decision that was long overdue, and Albus prayed that his time, after a lifetime of wrong choices that he'd make the proper decision.

"Yes, I believe we must talk," Albus softly agreed. "Not here. Shall I meet you in the garden in a bit?"

The hospice witch agreed, and then Albus bid adieu to the comatose Eileen.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Eileen," he promised. "Sleep well."

* * *

The two met in the hospice's Garden of Solace, a small garden with plenty of private nooks and crannies for reflection, mediation and serious conversation. They sat next to each other on a teak bench and Fawkes flew to a rowan tree, where he hid among the leaves.

"Yes, I know that we need to discuss resuscitation if Eileen stops breathing," Albus stated. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not daring to look at the sympathetic Sister Elizabeth as he was fearful that his composure would slip.

"Not just that, I need to know how aggressive you wish her treatment to be. Eileen has a spot of pneumonia. It could go either way as she's fought it off before. The best you can expect is that she beats it, but she _**will**_ have it again. There's too much damage in her lungs, so the slightest cold escalates into pneumonia. I need to know, as her guardian, do you wish Eileen to be magically resuscitated if she stops breathing?" Sister Elizabeth's voice was compassionate.

"I wish her son was here," Albus confessed to the hospice witch. "I feel unequal to this task, as I need the wisdom and compassion of Solomon. Recent events have proven that I lack both in great quantity."

They sat in silence for a bit and then Albus sighed.

"When she stops breathing, let it end," Albus finally decided. The weight of the necessary decision weighed heavily on his soul and he wondered how much he could endure before he broke. Truly, what other choice was there? To prolong her torment? No, he was not Tobias. "I did not know her well when she was a student, but I do not believe that she would be happy to linger… like this. Yet I can not hasten her demise. Feed, hydrate and medicate her, but when the ends comes, may it be swift and compassionate."

Sister Elizabeth squeezed his hand. That simple act of sympathy nearly had him come completely undone, and he roughly brushed at his eyes.

"If her passing over… is prolonged… and painful, I also give permission for it to be hastened in a compassionate manner. Her son, when he is found, may wish otherwise, and his desires will supersede and overrule my decisions. Severus truly knows how she would wish this to be handled."

The painful decision made, Sister Elizabeth left him alone in the Garden of Solace. But he wasn't truly alone, as Fawkes was with him, and his memories of Severus haunted him.

* * *

Minerva took the Time Turner and twisted it carefully. She could, at best, only add a few hours to her day, as Poppy and Filius were both keeping too close an eye on her. The physical strain of using the Time Turner had a cumulative affect which was apparent to those that knew for what to look. Minerva wasn't young anymore, not by a long shot, and it was only through sheer force of will that she managed to keep up with the pace of the recent spate of thirty hour days.

One hour, two hours, three hours…

In her classroom, a logy Minerva was busy teaching the firsties even while a weary Minerva was heading out to Greater Manchester Urban Area, where she would painstakingly search every damn block on foot. Somewhere, out there, amid the over two million inhabitants of the Greater Manchester Urban Area, Severus and her goddaughter were hiding in broad daylight, shielded by a Dark Wizard who had somehow managed to turn Filius Flitwick's goblin heritage against him.

The damn pendant had worked.

Worked perfectly, but they had lost a month… a _**MONTH**_… before Filius realized that his device had been tainted and was being used against them. She and Horace had been merrily bounced all over the bloody United Kingdom for a month… a _**MONTH**_… while her goddaughter was _**contaminated**_ by that foul wizard for a month… _**A MONTH!**_ It had taken Filius Flitwick and Septima Vector two full weeks to perform the necessary Arithmancy to determine where the nexus of the spell was.

It had finally been calibrated and tentatively formulated that Severus was somewhere in the conurbation sprawl known as the Greater Manchester Urban Area. Because Draganov had already used their magic against them, Filius thought it best that not use Magic to locate Severus, which left Horace and Minerva walking the streets.

Horace was a dear, sweet man, but he could not hope to match her powerful stride for long, so she often did her reconnaissance alone. Being male, stubborn and proud, Horace had offered his assistance; boasting that he had lost close to two stones thanks to the McGonagall Power Walking tour of Manchester and claiming a much greater stamina for all manners of physical exertion. Minerva, while being much appreciative of his greater stamina in bed, still gave him the less physical tasks to perform such as keeping logs of her travels and updating the Arithmancy formulas to find the next most likely spot.

Times like now, Minerva much preferred Physical Action rather than bookkeeping, but she understood the need for calm, rational planning. It didn't mean that the witch didn't profoundly regretted her kindness over allowing Slughorn to skive off the foot work when she remembered the Russian Auror who had been found dead in an alley. That unnamed Russian Auror had made the mistake of going after Draganov alone, and Horace was quick on his wand.

Perhaps… perhaps today she would only search for an hour or two, and then skip dinner and go directly to bed. Lately, her sleeping was fractured into brief catnaps, as her overwhelming concern for Severus was manifesting in her dreams. Truly, Minerva didn't understand the meaning of the plum colored unicorn with the fuchsia horn, even after reading her dusty copy of _Unfogging the Future_.

But what of a dragonhide clad Severus pouring potions one handed? And what of a laughing Severus standing in a circle while unseen wizards and witches _**flew**_ around him?

_**Laughing**_? _**Flying without a broom**_?

She had just finished lacing up her sensible yet comfortable walking shoes when Fawkes poofed into her room. The Phoenix deposited an envelope on her desk and then he realized that he wasn't alone in the room.

_You're in your __**class**_, Fawkes informed her in melodious tones. _But you're also __**here**__. I will inform Albus as he desperately needs to speak to you regarding a matter of supreme importance. Do __**not**__ leave. _

Fawkes rarely mindspoke to her, and at most, he only spoke a few words, but this… this was a full fledged conversation.

"Fawkes, I can't talk to him right now, I have plans…" she feebly protested even as the damnable flying fire hazard popped out.

There was a knock on her door, and she groaned. Albus must have been standing outside her door in the hopes that Minerva had skived off class! She needed to be in Manchester, not here!

"Minerva, it is I. May I speak to you?" Albus softly requested. "I know you're in there, Fawkes just informed me."

Not Albus! Not now! Why did he want to talk to her now? Ever since she had begun to 'date' Horace, Albus had kept himself aloof from her, possibly out of a noble and completely misguided desire of not causing Horace any jealousy. It had made searching for Severus easier and yet not, as she could still sense Albus' misery radiating off him. He struggled to hide it, but as the days lengthened, his jolly, barmy façade was crumbling. Even the dense Sirius Black had noticed and commented to her regarding Albus' melancholy.

"Please…. It's about Severus… I _**must**_ speak to you," pleaded Albus. "Please, open the door."

Requesting that she open her door rather than using his ability as Headmaster to enter her quarters was new. Not that he had ever barged into her quarters uninvited but… Albus was changing, just as surely as she was. Regretfully, Minerva unfastened the bolt on her door and gave permission for him to enter.

"Minerva, forgive this interruption. This is of utmost importance, it's regarding Severus' mother. Please, tell me that you have found him and that you're keeping his location a secret. I must get a message to him, please… I won't ask where he is, I won't attempt to find out where he is hiding, I won't send Fawkes after you… I _**swear**_ it… but just please assure me that you know where he is!"

It took her a moment or three to decipher what Albus had said, as he had spoken in a rush. Her silence was taken as refusal as Albus began to argue his cause.

"It's his mother. She's developed pneumonia again, Minerva, and depending on the severity, it could lead to respiratory failure. I don't have the faintest idea of what his wishes are in this matter, and I fear to make the wrong decision. Please, ask him what his wishes are and I will inform the hospice," pleaded Albus.

Gracelessly, Minerva collapsed into her settee, and Albus' hopeful expression faded. He knelt before her, looking up at her.

"I know, you have good reasons to doubt my sincerity, but I swear to you on anything, on Fawkes, on what once existed between us, I will not ask you to reveal Severus' location to me. Just contact him and ask him what he wishes to be done," Albus requested.

"Albus, I have _**no**_ idea where Severus is," she insisted.

"Minerva, I know you and Horace were pretending to date so you two could have a ready excuse for searching for Severus. You two were going out frequently and now it's faded into an only once a week outing, yet you go out alone several times a week. I pray that you've found him, and you're keeping him safe. It's all that kept me from going quite spare today knowing that _**you**_ were the one protecting Severus and the child."

Albus' blue eyes were full of hopeful trust. The faith Albus possessed in her was unwarranted and more than a trifle unnerving.

"Please, tell me how he fares," pleaded Albus. "Is he well? Do you need anything to help them? I can provide whatever necessary funds you require…. I know you won't take my money, but please… let me know if I can help…"

"Albus… I honestly don't know where Severus is," she repeated.

"I know you doubt me, Minerva, but this isn't about me… it's about his _**mother**_," Albus protested.

_She truly has no idea where he is_, Fawkes inserted.

Albus' expressive face fell when he realized that she spoke the truth. Damning herself for being a sentimental, overly emotional prat, she slipped out of the settee, and sat down next to him on her floor. She slipped her hand into his, and she squeezed it hard.

"We buggered it up," she explained. "That mage that sent us on a Soulride realized that Filius isn't completely pure human. He turned Filius' goblin heritage against us and has led us on a merry chase all over the United Kingdom. Septima and Filius believe that Severus might be located somewhere in the Greater Manchester Urban Area but we can't even be sure of that as the Mage has properly and thoroughly Hexed anything that involves Filius. Since Filius taught me, besides being one of my closest friends, I fear that I'm still adversely affected as the Hex considers me a factotum of Filius Flitwick."

"Don't be so fatalistic, Minerva. I _**know**_ that you will find Severus," Albus assured her. "If anyone can, you will."

Albus entwined his fingers with hers and refused to let go.

"I've… missed… you," he whispered. "I thought I should give you some space… some relief from the stress of dealing with me… but, oh, Minerva, how I've missed you. I've been… lonely… without you."

"You bloody berk," she snapped, not unkindly, but still surprisingly fearful of where Albus was going with his unexpected confession. There were some things best left undisturbed and the remains of their love affair was one of them. "Why?"

"I saw you… after your first date with Horace. You looked so weary and careworn, and I knew it was my fault. Once again, through my intrinsic flaws, I had managed to deeply wound you. This time, it was by forcing you to constantly buffer Severus from me," Albus softly admitted. "I am so sorry, Minerva. I want you to know that I am sincerely repentant for putting you through this."

"You don't need to apologize to me. You wanted to do right by Severus, and you overwhelmed him. Therefore, you need to apologize to _**him**_ after I find him. Though first, I will make him bitterly regret running away," she announced.

"You sound so fierce, Minerva, but I know you well enough to know that you will weep over him while he fiercely protests your over-sentimentality," teased Albus. His voice was tender and affectionate.

"I'll scold him first and only then will I weep tears of joy that we've found him," Minerva protested, as she felt her stern reputation needed to be upheld. "But you don't need to apologize to me."

"I wish you'd accept my admission of guilt, Minerva," continued Albus. His other hand was resting on top of their hands and he was gently stroking her thumb with his index finger. "I'm requesting absolution from you, Minerva."

"Why is it so important to you that you apologize to me?" she kept her voice calm, refusing to display her unease on how this conversation was heading.

"Because your good opinion matters to me," Albus softly explained. "I loved you, Minerva."

Dumbledore turned to her and Minerva knew that she was in very dangerous territory.

"I must acknowledge the painful fact that though it has been far too many years and nothing will ever resurrect our passionate past, I still love you."

He tensed then, waiting for Minerva to belittle his sincerity.

"Forgive me, my dearest friend, I should never have confessed that to you," he pleaded. "What we once had is over and I've long since accepted that. The situation with Eileen has made me quite maudlin, I'm afraid."

She had almost forgotten this rarely seen side of Dumbledore, the desperately insecure soul that feared to reveal his deepest emotions.

"I still love you, too, Albus, and I will forgive you as I know you meant to be helpful," Minerva gently reassured him. "But what of Severus?"

"Severus?" Albus questioned. His blue eyes were full of unshed tears. "Severus loves you very much and there would be no one more delighted than I if you two could come to an understanding. I truly mean that. You could be wonderful for him; just don't worry about what everyone will say. Carpe Severus, Minerva. Seize Severus and take him to your bed! Love him like he deserves to be loved."

"You daft prat, he loves _**you**_," she retorted.

"He believes that he loves me; because I fully embody what he believes love to be. Love for Severus is an uncaring, neglectful, abusive bastard," spat Albus. In a softer tone, he continued the conversation. "You'd be far better for him than I could ever hope to be. I deeply wound all those for whom I care. I wasn't patient enough with Ariana and Aberforth, I wasn't adequately mature to appreciate what I had with Elphias and I wasn't sufficiently demonstrative for you. And Severus? I demonstrated entirely too well how much I hadn't learned from those experiences."

"I don't remember you being quite so overly dramatic when we were involved," snapped Minerva, putting a great deal of bite in her tone. "Shall I find you a skull? You could talk to poor Yorick."

Albus smiled and then he nodded his head.

"I am rather mawkish, aren't I? It's not only you whom I missed, but also Severus. I find myself hoping that this has been nothing more than a horrible dream, and he'll storm through my office door, determined to have all of Gryffindor expelled." Albus then gently laughed. "Sometimes, I pick out my robes by wondering which one would have offended his sensibilities the most. Not that he ever said anything to me, but I could tell how much he hated some of my robes."

He continued to stroke her thumb and Minerva shivered.

"I am having such dreams, Minerva. I dream of what Severus went through and… I must admit that I still can't understand how… people could take pleasure… in…," Albus paused before he hesitantly continued. "It's supposed to be an act of love and affection, Minerva. I fail to understand why some take such pleasure in turning something so beautiful into something depraved."

"I believe that some suppose by bringing you down to their level that they have somehow elevated themselves," Minerva informed him.

"Wilkes could _**never**_ dream to be on your level," shakily protested Albus.

"Well, no, not after you and Fawkes got done with him," Minerva reminded him. "He's not capable of doing very much now, is he?"

She wiped her eyes, and Albus moved closer to her. Carefully, he put his arm around her and he brought her close. Overwhelmed by her physical exhaustion and the onslaught of emotions both old and new, Minerva broke down and wept. In response, Albus held her still closer and allowed her to cry herself out, and so she sobbed until his robe was soaked. Minerva wept for both Severus and Albus, two men trapped in an unenviable, impossible situation. She wept for the comatose Eileen Prince and the granddaughter she'd never know and, not least of all, Minerva permitted herself the rare luxury of crying over her own past traumas.

Albus insisted on continuing to embrace her even after she ceased her scriking. He rubbed her back and softly chastised her for holding everything in. Albus then leaned in and attempted to kiss her on the cheek.

It wasn't a surprise that after her breakdown that the two kissed. They had been lovers and they possessed a strong friendship both before and after their love affair. It was not uncommon for them to give the other a friendly buzz on the cheek with Minerva traditionally criticizing the Herculean effort it took to find a place where she wouldn't get a mouthful of beard.

What was uncommon was that their lips met and that their chaste kiss deepened into something… more.

_**This is not a good thing**_, Minerva and Albus both thought as they instinctively recoiled. They looked everywhere but at each other.

"Then I have this dream involving Severus, a unicorn and you," Albus stated. His voice was a trifle higher than his normal baritone as he was quite flustered by what had transpired.

"Purple?" Minerva quickly interrupted. "Is the unicorn purple?"

"No, I'd say it was more a shade of medium orchid," Albus admitted. "Why do you ask?"

"Just a lucky guess," Minerva whispered. "Would you mind? Leaving? I think I need to lie down."

She shooed him out of her quarters, uncaring that a horrified Albus misunderstood why she wanted him to leave post-haste. It wasn't the damn kiss… Well, yes, it was and no, it wasn't.

It was her response to the damn kiss that frightened her. It was the fact that they were both sharing dreams with a horrifically colored unicorn. It was Filius Flitwick's understanding blue eyes as he requested that Minerva just needed to think of Severus when she was searching Manchester as Filius just knew that she'd be the one to find Severus. Filius had _**known**_ since day one what had happened, had gently suggested the possibility to her and hadn't ever mentioned it again after she had vehemently refused to even consider it.

"No," she weakly protested. "I can't be Bonded to the both of them. I _**can't**_ be."

* * *

Severus Snape shrugged off his dragonhide surcoat and neatly hung it one-handedly on the hook. It had been a long, busy day of Potion Making and he was pleasantly tired. Besides the chopping of roots and boiling of solutions, there had been a loud and lengthy discussion with Sasha after they had both read _Solvents & Solutions Monthly_. The Bulgarian had refused to consider refining his current Calming Drafts so to prevent possible adverse side affects. The argument had ended with Severus the victor and Sasha grudgingly admitting defeat in the battle of the Potions. Severus quite enjoyed it when he was right, as he would earn another one of Sasha's bonuses. A few more bonuses and he would be quite close to paying off his treatment.

The three months of his Potions partnership with Sasha had been exceedingly good to Sasha, Oxana and most importantly Ariana, who now was the slightest paunch hidden by baggy clothes and concealment spells. Severus had brought in a significant amount of revenue into Sasha's shop and he had been rewarded accordingly.

"Go rest in the garden, the weather's warm, and I'll bring you and Oxana something to eat," Sasha informed him. "Need to keep my goddaughter properly nourished."

Ah yes, Sasha was busy playing House Elf and minion as he had _**also**_ lost his bet with Oxana over who would learn to Fly first. The witch had grasped Flying as easily as breathing and she had delightedly flown circles around a not-quite as quick Sasha. Severus had the distinct idea that Sasha had just as easily grasped how to fly but had deliberately pretended otherwise, just so Oxana would have one over on him.

What a strange relationship the two had.

Never before having the chance to witness love up close, Severus often marveled at their tight bond. He caught the two older mages hugging and snogging which was rather astonishing considering how _**old**_ Sasha was. Sasha was ninety, if not more! The duo went dancing several nights a week on what they laughing called 'date nights', leaving Severus home alone with the fuzzy familiars. They argued and fought but no matter how heated their disagreements grew, their arguments were nothing compared to Eileen and Tobias' all out drunken brawls. No threats of suicide, no verbal condemnation and no shouted reminders that the reason they had married was because Oxana the bloody slut had gotten up the duff.

No still form lying at the bottom of the steps while a drunken Sasha nodded his head in approval that he had at last, finally shut the damn bitch up.

_Bitch had it coming to her,_ his father had stated proudly to the Bobbies before they had taken him away.

_I wish I had someone like Oxana,_ Severus thought. _Someone who knows what I am and who loves me anyway; though I could do without the Fundamental Bond._

He sat down on the teak bench and was immediately greeted by Nadya. The archangel cat purred and he began to scratch her with his left hand. Sasha had decreed that scratching was a very good form of physical therapy for his left hand, but Severus secretly believed that Sasha was weary of the cat hair on his clothes.

_What would it like?_ Severus wondered. He was exhausted and so he closed his eyes, content to doze in the surprisingly warm spring day. _To have someone who truly cared about me?_

Drifting in a pleasant doze, he pretended he was kissing someone… someone who was kissing him back just as fervently. They were sitting on the floor and there was an arm wrapped around him. Not too tightly, but just enough.

His partner was… _**Minerva**_… it…was _**Albus**_… and he bemoaned how difficult it was to place the kiss so to not find his mouth full of beard.

Severus woke with a start then, his heart pounding fit to burst out of his chest. Over the last three months, he had taken every memory, every thought of Albus and what had occurred and had savagely repressed them. It was the only way he could keep functioning, to keep the nightmares at bay. He had Potions to brew, Charms to teach; Severus didn't have time to be a whimpering sad sack.

Naively, he believed that he had come so far with dealing with what had happened. Yet, he had instinctively recoiled from Sasha earlier today, as he caught the long haired, bearded wizard out of the corner of his eye. The sighting had caused him to panic, believing that Albus had managed to locate him.

It would take time to heal. That Severus knew and accepted, but he couldn't escape the feeling that he was rapidly running out of time.

_

* * *

_"Have you found him?" hissed the Dark Lord. His hapless follower made his usual plaintive excuses that Severus Snape was cunning and sly and proving quite illusive which meant that the answer was still 'no'. Truly, the Dark Lord might be willing to admit to only himself that he had made a slight mistake in deciding to use Severus Snape in his plans to weaken Dumbledore. While the choice of Severus had been true inspiration, as no one else among his followers would have so deeply disturbed and distracted that blasted old man, it meant that he had lost his most gifted devotee.

Leaving him with the rift raft who was piteously explaining to his Lord why he couldn't find a drained, pregnant wizard with only one arm. Severus could have easily found a shattered, knock up, magical cripple!

"You may feed Nagini," the Dark Lord announced, interrupting the fourth or fifth time recitation of why Peter Pettigrew couldn't locate Severus Snape. He ignored Pettigrew's whimpers of fears, but refrained from telling him that Nagini would never feast on Peter. She had exquisite taste and Peter Pettigrew was not at all to her liking. Too gristly and he failed to bathe regularly.

"Lucius, you were friendly with Severus. Do you believe that he has betrayed me? That he is in fact being sheltered by Dumbledore?" The Dark Lord questioned.

"No, my Lord, I do not believe that Severus would have remained with him. He was quite fearful of Albus whenever Albus visited him," Lucius carefully reminded his Lord in a valiant attempt not to earn his Lord's displeasure. "My son says that Dumbledore is obviously feeling the strain of Severus' disappearance, and he's not that good an actor to be faking it. Could Severus be dead?"

"No, Severus will die in the throes of labor, the child unborn. He's _**alive**_, Lucius, I cast the spells myself to ensure that he would die in childbirth. You will find him, Lucius and you will bring him back to me," the Dark Lord ordered. "When I'm done with him, he'll willingly return to Albus Dumbledore."

After Lucius left, the Dark Lord sighed in disappointment. "Severus, Severus, Severus, you must know that I am most displeased with you."

* * *

Asen Peychinovich was on duty when the Special Adviser of some ranking or other to the International Confederation of Wizards stormed into Nurmengard. The slight mage was surrounded by a literal brigade of wizard enforcers.

"I must speak to your prisoner," the Japanese mage demanded. "We've discovered a cache of his weapons."

"Do you have proper authorization?" Asen protested. Damn it, everyone was on break, leaving him to deal with _**THIS **_debacle. The moment he spoke he regretted it, as the mage's cold eyes narrowed slightly as though debating Asen's life expectancy. Would it be minutes or hours?

The mage growled his displeasure and produced the require documentation which Asen quickly verified.

"Only me," the Japanese mage insisted. "I may be required to use methods that you would prefer not to be aware of."

The brigade then blocked Asen's view of the prisoner and he decided it best not to protest.

* * *

Ishikawa Byakko entered his Lord's chambers where he was warmly greeted by Gellert.

"Asen's working for that upstart in the United Kingdom. We've confirmed it," Byakko tersely explained. "Snezhana and I believe that you should be made aware of our plans. We're setting up an ambush for Dumbledore and this latest Dark Lord, and thought you could be instrumental in setting it up."

"Tell me, what I may do from my luxurious vacation spot?" questioned Gellert.

"Write a letter to Minerva McGonagall, advising her that you have found where Damyan is hiding with the boy…." As Ishikawa explained Snezhana's plan, Gellert's smile grew broader. It was reassuring to know that he could still affect the world.

When Byakko left Nurmengard, Gellert was sporting assorted bruises and abrasions. Gellert had insisted that Byakko wound him so to back up his story regarding Gellert being most unhappy to assist with defusing the weapons cache. It was only a small weapons cache, able to wipe out modern day Tokyo with the Muggles called an earthquake, so Snezhana had decided the lost of it was worth the cost.

In Byakko's pocket, he had a private note to Albus from Gellert, advising him of Severus' supposed location, and Asen had his own note to deliver, a sealed note to Minerva McGonagall informing her that Gellert feared Albus was walking into an ambush and would need assistance. Both Minerva and Albus wouldn't believe that Gellert was capable of being altruistic, but they couldn't risk it. Prison had a way of changing even the hardest souls.

And yes, that upstart Dark Lord would be there, as no doubt Asen would bring him the sealed note first before delivering it to Minerva.

Albus, Minerva, the Order and the Death Eaters, all trapped in the same location, in an area that had been deliberately laced with magical booby traps.

It would be a magical massacre of historical proportions.

It would be glorious.


	28. Chapter 28

Much thanks to my beta, MM, who helped snark this up. It seems that Not-Willing-to-Admit's snarcasm has done a runner. She also helped contribute to the Freud/Fraud section.

* * *

"You're to go with Oxana and the fuzzies and leave. I've made arrangements for you both to stay at Wizards Thatch in Alderley Edge. Something's come up, and there is a need for some serious cauldron bubbling. At the bare minimum, you can't be within a few thousand or so feet of what I'm brewing, so go. Spend my money. Have fun. See you tomorrow evening if it's safe for you to return," Sasha growled.

With that, Severus Snape found himself standing on the streets of Manchester, the door closed quite firmly behind him. Oxana shook her head at Sasha's brusque dismissal and she firmly took Severus by his left arm. With a muttered Charm, she ensured that they could speak freely without being overheard.

"Shall we be off?" The witch questioned. "I have a long list of what to purchase. A cot, buggy, vests and babygros, a Moses Basket, dummies, changing bag and… Whew! So much more. I don't wish to alarm you but our very large acquaintance and Sasha's Japanese friend devised the list of what we are to purchase."

That bit of news stopped Severus dead in his tracks.

"Truly that strikes a chord of fear in my heart," he quipped. Plus his stomach dropped to his knees at the thought of Toma and Byakko playing the proud grandfathers and cooing over _**his**_ Ari. "Are weapons of mass magical destruction truly suitable for crib toys? Perhaps they might be more suitable when she's three years old?"

Like Minerva would have done, Oxana laughed.

"Well, Sasha and I never had children. Between the two of them, they've fathered a dozen or more plus have a legion of grandchildren, great grandchildren and more. The problem is that I'm not familiar with their names for some of the various bits and pieces. I mean, I'm sure the boys meant well, but we're in jolly old England, not Japan or Bulgaria. But between the two of us. I'm quite sure that we'll figure it out." Oxana nodded her head. "Do you any idea what an onbuhimo is?"

"I have no idea," admitted Severus in a flat monotone. "Is it contagious? Does she need to be inoculated against it?"

"Our Japanese friend said that it's similar to a mei tei," explained Oxana. She appeared perplexed, and Severus had to agree with her.

What the bloody hell was a Mei Tei?

"Isn't that an alcoholic Muggle drink?" Severus asked. "Would that not be more conducive for a full night's sleep for the parent?"

"Mei Tei, not a Mai Tai," retorted the witch. "It's some sort of baby carrier? I think you tie the baby in it and carry her on your back?"

Severus couldn't help his bitter laugh. Considering he was carrying Ari for nine months, it was only appropriate that the Headmaster carry the sprog everywhere until she could walk. Then and there, he vowed to get six assorted Mei Teis in Slytherin colors. The colors of Slytherin House, emerald green, silver and black would horribly quarrel with the Headmaster's bespangled robes. It would like an open, festering wound….

_But… are you truly planning on returning to him? Would it not be better to stay with Sasha and Oxana?_

"What is Sasha planning?" questioned Severus as the two of them continued to walk.

"I don't know. He didn't tell me anything except for the fact that he might have to cut his hair," she explained. "Truly not very informative, but that's how he is. When he doesn't want to worry me, Sasha decides it best to simply not to discuss the matter. I'm not in your two's league regarding brewing so the clues I have been provided are not helpful. Considering that you can't be near the fumes because of your unique condition help narrow it down? Plus, the fact that human sweat interacting with the compound will cause it to go unstable, mean anything to you?"

Severus balanced the known brewing requirements, the possibility of fetal toxicity with his knowledge of the supplies the Dark Wizard had recently procured. His eyes widened and he swallowed once he realized what Sasha was creating. Instinctively, he found that he had placed both his hands over his belly in a futile attempt at protecting his child.

His hair. Sasha was using his long hair as the bloody fuse! Truly, the wizard was extremely unbalanced!

"Liquid essence of Ashwinder. It's a rather potent and extremely volatile explosive, but only a few Potions Grand Masters have even managed to produce the smallest amount. A small vial is enough to destroy most of Manchester," whispered Severus.

"Oh," Oxana said. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and then her Russian Auror training kicked in as she calmly nodded. "He doesn't seem to be planning on more than a few drops because he would have sent us to London rather than Alderley Edge. We'd be less likely to go boom in London if he was brewing a vial's worth."

She briskly strode down the street, pulling a stunned Severus behind her.

"Come along now," she ordered. "Time to go shopping. There are plenty of little shops that might be standing tomorrow or they might not be. Best do our shopping now. I believe that you wanted a green dress for her first Christmas?"

* * *

Ishikawa Byakko Floo Called Albus Dumbledore and requested a meeting. Dumbledore quickly assented and before long, Ishikawa, the most loyal servant of Gellert, was in the enemy fortress known as Hogwarts.

"My sincerest apologies for contacting you so late," Byakko said. He kept his tone genuinely contrite so that Dumbledore wouldn't read his true emotions. "We had an unfortunate incident in Tokyo and our Aurors found a sizable cache of weapons left over from the war. Naturally, the Diet of Magical Japan insisted that I be sent to Nurmengard to speak to the prisoner…"

Albus' unexpected visitor paused then, not too much, but slightly. He delayed just long enough that Dumbledore could read into it what he wished, Byakko attempting to contain his jubilance. His Master had been languishing in jail for far too long. Now, thanks to a fortuitous series of events involving a pregnant mage landing in Damyan's back yard, the Brotherhood finally had the chance to rid the world of both Dumbledore and that Upstart who dared to believe that he was Gellert's natural successor.

"He was most… unaccommodating… but he agreed to give me enough information on how to disarm the weapons in the cache if I gave you this."

Ishikawa Byakko handed Albus Dumbledore a sealed, thin envelope.

"While I understand that I am required to give all of his correspondence to his jailers, I swore on my honor that I would slip this to you." Byakko ceased talking for just a moment and nodded his head as he pondered exactly what he had done. "Yes, it is dishonorable what I have done, but to save Tokyo?"

He fixed Albus with a steely gaze, and continued reluctantly, as though weighing the likelihood of being betrayed.

"I understand if you inform the International Confederation of Wizards of my transgression. I dare say that the International Confederation of Wizards would not approve. I don't believe that I'd condone this if our roles were reverse. But… Tokyo… it was such a magical city before… the destruction caused by the war. It would pain me… to see it reduced to rubble once more…I lost my wife during the war…"

Technically, Ishikawa Byakko wasn't lying to Albus Dumbledore. His victims would be surprised that Byakko had a strict code of honor by which he ruled his life. Lying was simply not acceptable to him. In all the long years after the failure of their glorious rebellion, no one had ever asked him if he had ever served Gellert. He took pride in the fact that he had never once had to perjure himself by denying his Lord and Master.

And his first wife had died with great honor in the devoted service of their Lord, Gellert.

The envelope delivered, Ishikawa then Flood away from Hogwarts. After a runabout route, he was at last in Manchester as he had a bomb to build.

* * *

"We'll need a pushchair and a pram," Albus announced to his captive audience. "Perhaps, we should go for a buggy that can be used both ways? What do you think, Fawkes?"

The disinterested Fawkes, in lieu of advice, belched a ring of smoke and Albus sighed. He was an old, bent wizard. Dumbledore would willingly admit to anyone that might listen that Albus Dumbledore was Clueless Charlie when it came to what a baby would need. It was ironic how the mage declared as the Greatest Mage since Merlin was _**reduced**_ to listening at keyholes to hear baby products rated and defined. Only through copious eavesdropping on Dora Lupin had Albus realized there was a significant difference between a pushchair and a pram. She firmly believed that it was better to get a buggy that that did both, therefore Albus had dutifully wrote down one baby buggy (combination pram/pushchair) on the list of essential purchases.

Sigh.

A list he hoped to tackle in August when Severus returned at last.

_**As he had promised to do so**_.

Albus kept repeating Severus' written pledge to return whenever his confidence lagged. He recited it when his conscience jabbed him with a pointed, 'What makes you believe he's coming back?' That simple mantra, "He promised to return" kept Albus sane and encouraged him during his darkest hours.

But it was long past time for Albus to stop wallowing in his dark thoughts. He had a list to finish!

So far, it was a very small and truthfully sad list. Wistfully, he thought how Minerva would have been quite useful in amending his catalog of required necessities, but there was simply no way he could ask her for assistance. This afternoon, he had successfully buggered their strained friendship. First he had kissed her like they were lovers, and then, to make matters impossibly worse, Albus had confessed that he still loved her.

What the bloody hell had he been thinking? He had created a child with someone, and yet he was thoughtlessly confessing to someone else that he loved her!

It wasn't that he didn't care for Severus. That was far from the truth, but he felt more comfortable with Minerva. She was strong enough to honestly express her belief and to tell him to sod off as necessary. It wasn't that Severus wasn't that strong…. In public, he was forthright and opinionated… But he had been… diffident and so self-effacing in their private conservations. Most of their conversations he had said very little, instead, Severus had only gazed at him with the oddest look in his dark eyes. Hopeful yet fearful, doomed and damaged were the sentiments unsuccessfully hidden by his dark hair.

Severus had desired Albus to perceive him as more than merely Albus' weapon. How could Albus have been so damn blind!

In his anger at himself, Albus unwittingly snapped his quill in half. He sighed when he realized that the small list which he had struggled with for hours was now an ink-spotted, illegible mess. Now was the time that he desperately needed to keep his emotions in check, yet he was failing at that miserably also.

It had taken _**years**_ for Minerva to be comfortable with him after they had broken up. His cursed inability to be suitably warm and affectionate to the woman he loved had destroyed their relationship. And in his weakness, it had taken only a minute for him to bugger everything up.

But back to the list! He found a clean piece of parchment, a new quill, a new ink bottle and a new found resolve. He would vanquish the list tonight! When Severus returned in August, Albus would have thought of everything that Severus and the babe might need!

Or at least have added something new to the list.

The list already had nappies, because that was a given. Bottles had been the second addition, as Albus had shuddered at the very thought of Severus and breast feeding. It had been a foolish thought that had left him horrified at its sheer implausibility. Really, maybe he should be making the purchases now! What if Severus was too physically exhausted in August to handle these details? Yet Severus should be allowed to express his preference on what he wanted. As his brother Aberforth had warned him, Albus needed to immediately cease being such a ruddy, overbearing prat. Whatever Severus wanted, Albus would cheerfully agree and most importantly, pay for it.

_Too late for that, boyo, you've already caused him to do a runner. What makes you think he'll come back?_

_**"HE PROMISED TO RETURN!" **_He reminded himself with all the fake surety he could muster.

Perhaps, he wouldn't like the floppy Phoenix that Albus had knitted. As Fawkes consistently twittered at him, it wasn't a particularly well done Phoenix.

The child would need clothing… but how much? Blankets and beddings were also required, but what color did Severus wish the nursery to be? Did he have a preference for a theme? Dora Lupin had Remus and Sirius painting and repainting her nursery as her desires changed. The child… their daughter… would need a place to sleep, and Albus doubted that they could just place her in a dresser drawer until she was large enough for a proper bed.

He welcomed the distraction when one of the Japanese mages from The International Confederation of Wizards Floo Called him. It was a matter of some importance, the mage claimed, and he needed to Floo into Hogwarts. Albus readily agreed though he wondered why this particular mage was contacting him. Byakko had a reputation for standoffishness among the European mages, but Albus knew enough about Japanese culture to understand the mage's _honne_ and _tatemae._

_Tatemae _was the mage's public façade. The Japanese mage acted as his position required him to do so. His outward stoic façade was dictated by his role as a special envoy to The International Confederation of Wizards. Regardless of how heated the discussions at the ICW became, Ishikawa Byakko never raised his voice. His reticence was legendary; his celebrated judgment was deemed impartial. The rare times Byakko had become involved in a discussion, his input had heavily weighed in the final outcome. At all times, he kept his true feelings, his _honne_, to himself as tradition demanded that his role as mediator and envoy far outweighed his personal beliefs.

While Albus understood _honne_ and _tatemea_, it didn't mean that he felt very comfortable around the mage. There was something in Byakko's eyes that made Albus' blood run cold. The Japanese mage had been the lone survivor of the cadre of valiant yet doomed mages that had struggled against Gellert. So, perhaps Albus saw the remembered horrors in reflected Ishikawa Byakko's eyes. Or perhaps it was Albus' own personal guilt that made him unable to look into Byakko's flat eyes.

Albus was been troubled when Ishikawa handed him a sealed envelope from Gellert Grindelwald. The mage should not have given him the letter because it ran counter to everything that _honne_ and _tatemae _meant. That comment about the destruction of Tokyo had been far too personal an admittance for the mage Albus Dumbledore believed him to be. His wife? The mage had been married?

Yet, did not every man have his breaking point? Tokyo had been breathtaking, until its defenders had decided to salt the earth so Gellert's victory would be worthless. The loss of his wife? Would that not break even the hardest man's heart?

In spite of his concerns, Albus had accepted the letter and after confirming that it wasn't hexed or bespelled or charmed, he had opened it. Most assuredly, the letter was in Gellert's distinctive scrawl.

_Dearest A,_

_It has come to my attention that the one for whom you search is being relocated. Tomorrow night when Mars is at its apex, the prisoner will arrive at Prague Orloj where the transfer will take place. _

_I know that you do not trust me in this matter. Let us be blunt, love. This is an exchange. I have been accused of many thing, but altruistic behavior? _

_Never!_

_Let me perfectly honest while I assure you that we'll both get something out of this. _

_I am extremely displeased that Ivanka and Lazar have taken upon themselves to become involved in this matter between you and the latest Dark Lord. They hope to gain favor with him by presenting their prisoner to his representative. Such impudence must not remain unchallenged, my dearest. Alas, I am severely limited by my prison and must depend on you to punish their effrontery. I'm quite sure that you can handle the three of them._

_Please accept my heartiest congratulations on this startling news._

_I pray that you now possess the maturity and the patience that you sorely lacked in your younger years. My many years here have given me a new perspective on the sad events of our impetuous youth. Truly I hope that you appreciate this unexpected and unwarranted miracle. Is not the universe a most forgiving sort?_

_Do not make the same mistake again._

_All my love,_

_G_

Albus Dumbledore felt like he was punched in the gut and then kicked in the privates.

Severus was a prisoner and he was being _**held**_ by Lazar Mikhailov and Ivanka Petrova? Gellert… damnable blasted Gellert knew about Severus and the babe… and was deigning to give him personal advice. Gellert had been atypically verbose, delighting in the chance to slowly twist the knife.

How was that possible? Lazar and Ivanka had died in Kiev, fighting until the bitter end, intent on killing as many Aurors as possible before they fell in battle. This most assuredly was a trap, and yet there was a sense of truthfulness in what Gellert had written. He never did anything unless there was something in it for himself. Plus, Gellert was notoriously short-fused when it came to those he believed had thwarted him and his desires.

* * *

Sasha rubbed his freshly shorn scalp and hissed with disgust. All these years he had prided himself on his lack of vanity, but it seemed that he was quite mistaken. Next thing he'd know, he'd be wearing bespangled dress robes in various shades of purple because it made his green eyes 'pop'.

"Don't be such a priss. It will grow back. It's a small price if it will assist our Master in being released from his prison," his Brother Basem tersely informed him. The Algerian's hair was at most a stringy, faded memory. He wasn't a member of the Hair Club for Wizards and he most assureldy wasn't the Head Warlock of the Hair Club. With a sigh, Basem added "We needed it to bind the explosives. You were the only one with natural hair long enough for fuses. Bespelled hair would have reacted badly with the compounds."

Basem's mother must have been quite the wit as Basem, or "one who smiles" in Arabic, was even more stone-faced than Byakko. It was highly doubtful that a single smile had ever graced his face. But he was a first-rate, vicious fighter in a magical brawl, and he was quite useful in providing contraband potion ingredients. Now was such a time as once again brother Besem did not disappoint.

"The Erumpet horn?" Sasha tersely questioned.

"Quite fresh, I didn't spill a single drop when I harvested it," Basem assured him. "I have fresh Ashwinder blood, properly chilled so it's dormant. I have a multitude of Kappa shells and fresh manticore spines simply loaded with venom. I also have a goodly number of frozen Ashwinder eggs."

He said pedantically, "Properly thawed, they would be a happy addition to your merry mayhem."

Normally, Sasha was not one for improvising, especially once the senior members of the Brotherhood had decided upon a course of action. Unfortunately, he had decided to keep an eye on the boy's mother. The supervision was necessary as the maternal link between mother and son could be exploited and traced. If Dumbledore possessed half the brains for which he was widely credited, he should have been able to trail her blood to a certain New Age Shop in Manchester.

His foremost concern was to protect Oxana, Severus and his goddaughter. That was the only reason why he had gotten involved with Eileen Prince.

For no other reason! It certainly wasn't because he gotten fond of his ragamuffin. As if that were possible! Damyan Draganov had no heart! Fondness was a sign of emotional weakness, which could be exploited. The only reason he had involved himself in Oxana's fight with those thirteen idiot mages was because she was _**HIS**_ personal Russian Auror. He knew how she thought, how she operated and he hadn't desired to learn another Auror's personality quirks. Besides, thirteen verses one was not a fair fight, even with Grisha's assistance.

Being a Healer, a professional Healer with ethics, it had been a moral obligation to resolve Eileen's seeping bed sores. It would have been easier if he could have actually visited Eileen in the bloody hospice to treat her, but no, Dumbledore had warded Eileen Prince's quarters. But fixing Eileen's bedsores and severing her connection to Severus had been relatively easy to accomplish, even at a fair distance. Perhaps, it had been too easy?

The witch's bed sores were not the Gordian knot causing Sasha's temples to throb.

The witch was dying. In his professional opinion, Sasha believed that she had had only a week or so.

He had confided his dark concerns to Byakko on how Adrik might come completely undone at the death of his mother. There was a torment in the boy's dark eyes that seemed to link the intense devotion he had for his unborn child with the neglected and abused child he had once been. His crippling fixation on Albus Dumbledore further confirmed Sasha's diagnosis on why Severus wasn't healing from his trauma. During his training, Sasha had been forced to read all the various Muggle theories of one Sigismund Schlomo Freud, whom he nicknamed Fraud. Sometimes a wand was just a wand, even if it was thirteen inches, ribbed and rather rigid.

Yet, if one modified Fraud… Freud's theory on sex being behind everyone's woes, Severus Snape might make sense. He hadn't formed any sort of attachment to his father and his relationship with his mother had been less than supportive. Though from Severus' feverous ramblings, it seemed that she had attempted to assuage Severus' father's abuse. She hadn't been very adept at protecting her son, but it seemed that Eileen had endeavored until Tobias had at last, utterly defeated her.

Since he had been emotionally adrift, the school age Severus had latched onto Headmaster Albus as a father figure. Yes, the Headmaster was a distant, remote figure of authority who might take an interest in Severus, if he proved particularly adept or intelligent. All his goals in school had been toward that end, that someone might see some sort of potential in the boy in the raggedy clothes. The werewolf incident had proven what Albus had deemed more important and Severus's fantasies had shattered. That's when he had become easy prey for Lucius and his cronies. Even as he had become Albus' secret weapon, the roles of his childhood had continued. Albus was the enigmatic, unapproachable, unappeasable Tobias Snape while Mother Minerva unsuccessfully attempted to mediate the two men. Physical affection had been grudgingly granted by Albus and then he had quickly shown his true colors when a damaged Severus had returned back to Hogwarts.

Merlin's bloody scrote, how Damyan hated Fraud. Not every witch desired a wand. He'd like to introduce Oxana to Fraud and have him explain to her how she coveted a wand of her own. She'd kick him down a flight of steps and then declare his mangled corpse a victory for the Sisterhood of Self-Assertive Witches.

But enough of Oxana's fiery nature, he had to continue contemplate his patient. The emotionally shattered physical shell of Severus Snape was walking, talking, and brewing. There was even a left arm that worked more or less. The man's body had done well, progressed and adapted to his current limitations. A lesser Healer might be happy with that and declare it a job well done.

But not so Sasha.

He was a _**professional**_.

He took pride in his work. At one time, Damyan Draganov had graduated with Top Marks from his various schools. And while he had walked a long twisted road since he had first been granted use the title of Doctorate of Magical Healing, in spite of everything, Sasha hated to lose a patient. And lose Severus, he would. Perhaps, even before the child was able to be born.

Spiritually? Mentally? Emotionally? Severus Snape's wounds were continually to fester and scar.

His soul fluttered, torn and ungrounded. It was as if it had taken shelter away from him when the boy's body succumbed to the abuse years ago. To heal, he would need a home, a physical plane where he could take root and grow, but Hogwarts had been ripped from him by Dumbledore. And what soul can return when the man is lost? Certainly not to a man exiled from even his own understanding?

Severus Snape had defined his self worth on solely on his significance to Dumbledore's little rebellion. Desperately, he had wanted the approval of the Father-figure Dumbledore and had been instead soundly rejected time and time again.

This new Dark Lord certainly knew how to shatter Severus Snape. Torturing him using his idol's body was a perfect undoing. No other person could have so completely dismantled Severus' psyche. Each hex Sasha managed to remove from Severus' soul revealed two more twisted and festering curses layered underneath the first. A careful nudging and shifting of the various hexes had revealed two heavily warded Compulsions. Because of Severus' precarious health, Sasha hadn't Delved too deeply but he'd bet his last galleons on what the compulsions were. One was an urge to love and protect the child. This would be necessary as Severus was the unlikeliest candidate for a parent he had ever met and far more likely to completely self-destruct than face his present situation head on. The other? Under duress, he'd willingly return back to Albus Dumbledore.

In Sasha's biased opinion, the best way to help Severus?

Get rid of this self-styled Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore so the Curses and Compulsions would be broken, and then take Severus far away from the United Kingdom. Distance would help him heal. On a personal level, Toma had a pretty grandson that was fey also. Naum was a jolly lad with a good sense of humor and Sasha heartedly approved of him. After Severus had the baby and was in better shape mentally, he'd introduce the two; see if there was any sparks between them. Maybe he better do that sooner rather than later, as Severus might start looking towards _**him**_ as a possible Dumbledore replacement. As it was, sometimes he feared that Severus leaned a little too heavily on him for his mental stability. The boy's dependency on him wasn't a particularly smart idea. After all, Damyan Draganov was an utter nutter.

And if by helping Severus Snape, he might be able to assist the Brotherhood with their plans on releasing Gellert from his prison, then so much the better. It was a win-win situation.

After a lifetime of profound losses, Damyan liked it when he could chalk up a win on his mental scoreboard.

"Byakko's arrived," Toma announced. "I'll start working on the Kappa shells' shrapnel. Byakko's touch is a far defter than mine. Let him put the opening in the Ashwinder eggs."

"I'll begin pipetting the Ashwinder blood," Sasha said with a quiet nod. "Sort the manticore spikes by size, Basem."

Once the Ashwinder Egg bombs were made, they would be gently Translocated to the area surrounding the Prague Astronomical Clock. They'd be deliberately positioned in the vast underground tunnels and catacombs that permeated the city. By the time, the great and ignoble Dumbledore and the snake-faced would-be-Gellert arrived, the thawing eggs would be highly unstable and ripe for detonation. It would be a true loss for the Prague Orloj to be destroyed, but it was a small sacrifice when offered the chance to rid the world of both Dumbledore and Snake-Faced. The Greater Good was a harsh mistress and demanded much from her loyal devotees.

He pondered a stray thought and he couldn't help but laugh. His amusement earned him a grin from the jovial Toma and a frown from Basem.

"I was just wondering if Al and Snake Face were lovers," he explained.

Toma dramatically shuddered at the very thought of the scaly Dark Lord wannabe wrapped in a conjugal embrace with an all too hairy Albus, clad only in lavender pants.

"Well, we all remember how bad Gellert's break up from Albus was," Sasha reminded his fellow demolition mages. "And there are certain similarities."

* * *

Asen Peychinovich, a guard at the Wizard's Prison at Nurmengard who was a Death Eater in his spare time, held the sealed note in his hands. A quick motion advised him that he had permission to approach his Lord. He nodded his head in silent acknowledgement.

"Hold out the note," the Dark Lord ordered. The Dark Lord muttered a few Charms and then he shook his head. "Yes, Gellert has Charmed the parchment so no one can open it except for whom it is addressed. Hand the parchment to me, Asen."

He came still closer to his Master, attempting to appear calm and collected. His hands shaking, he handed over the sealed parchment. With a careless grace, the Dark Lord opened the letter. Instinctively, Asen sharply inhaled as his cover as a Nurmengard guard was now blown. How would he be able to deliver the letter now?

"Do not worry," the Dark Lord patronizingly purred. "My skill allowed me to open the letter easily. I can reseal it with no one being the wiser. At one time, Gellert may have been a formidable wizard, but it appears that decades of solitary confinement have greatly weakened his legendary skills."

The Dark Lord closely examined the note and then he Charmed the parchment into appearing in pristine opinion. "Take it to Minerva McGonagall. Assure her that you went directly to her as per your instructions. Go!"

Asen quickly departed for Hogwarts, eager to complete his mission. Meanwhile the Dark Lord called for thirteen of his highest ranking Death Eaters.

"It appears that our dear comrade in arms, Severus Snape, has managed to become friendly with

Lazar Mikhailov and Ivanka Petrova," Voldemort explained. Noting the blank, empty-headed stares of the majority of his brutish followers, he once again briefly regretted the loss of Severus to the cause. Severus Snape would have known who the mages were, unlike these mindless fools. The Dark Lord turned towards Bellatrix LeStrange, deliberately ignoring her adoring expression. "Please enlighten them."

"They were followers of Gellert Grindelwald," she explained. At the Dark Lord's approving node, Bellatrix began to further expand on Lazar and Ivanka's pasts, including their alleged magical specialties. Conveniently, she forgot to mention the inconsequential detail that they were both supposedly long dead. If her Dark Lord believed that they were alive, she would not dare disagree in public.

"_**Enough**_, Bellatrix. You are not at Hogwarts attempting to impress the Goblin Charms Master with your diligence," snapped the Dark Lord. "The issue is not that Ivanka likes to play with fire. Severus Snape has _**betrayed**_ me."

His followers made appropriate sounds of righteous rage. A few of the bolder ones made disparaging comments regarding Severus and how they had always known he wasn't as loyal as he claimed. Only Lucius Malfoy seemed startled into speechlessness by Severus' duplicity.

"Foolishly, Severus has attempted to find powerful allies to shelter him. He is being sent on to another mage tomorrow night. I have the times and the coordinates. _**You**_ will interrupt that transfer and bring him to me. _**ALIVE and UNHARMED**_. Albus Dumbledore will also be there," Voldemort paused, judging his followers' reaction to that news. A few seemed happy; delighted to prove themselves against Albus, a few seemed fearful of the great purple poof known as Albus Dumbledore but once more, Lucius Malfoy remained silent. That was odd, as he normally was a great clanging gong. "With the advantage of surprise, I believe that you can easily handle this situation. Do _**NOT**_ disappoint me. You will _**NOT**_ long survive my displeasure."

"Can we trust this information?" Yaxely unwisely questioned. "Why would Gellert inform Minerva McGonagall of all people?"

"IDIOT!" The Dark Lord hissed while his temper flared a new. "Question my judgment again… and die." First, Severus Snape had managed to escape from Hogwarts and ruin his plans, and now the ox-brained Yaxely was questioning his judgment.

Yaxley's fellow Death Eaters quietly shuffled away from him, leaving a noticeable empty space surrounding him. It seemed that his … friends… feared that Yaxley might … spontaneously… combust.

"Get _**OUT**_!" The Dark Lord seethed. "And be glad that I value the return of Severus the traitor so highly that I am willing to spare you in spite of your impudence and stupidity!"

His Death Eaters left the room but Bella remained behind.

"My Lord, forgive me my impudence, but I fear this could be trap," Bellatrix softly confessed. "Asen is not particularly adept and he could have easily been Compelled."

"No, there is the sound of truth in Gellert's missive. Disloyal followers must be reprimanded," Voldemort reminded Bella. "Gellert did not wish his followers to become involved in the current struggle between Albus and myself. No doubt he hopes that we will destroy each other, allowing him to reign victorious in our absence. Lazar and Ivanka are deliberately going against Gellert's expressed desires in this matter. As a result, Gellert believes that a suitable punishment for their misbehavior would be to inform Albus of the situation."

"But… why Minerva?" Bella questioned.

"He informed Minerva McGonagall to ensure that Albus has sufficient resources to punish Mikhailov and Petrova. Remember this; I do not want Albus to get Severus. Severus is to be returned to me."

Bella confirmed her understanding of his reasoning, and then scrambled to make ready for the upcoming confrontation. Left alone with pleasant thoughts of further torturing Severus Snape for his noncompliance, he ignored that quiet, still voice that warned him that everything was a bit too pat. Yes, Hubris had been the downfall of many a Dark Wizard, including Gellert Grindelwald, he decided, but he was not Gellert.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall took the letter from the Nurmengard guard and thanked him.

"He requested that you deliver this to me personally?" She carefully repeated. Oh bloody hell, this better be important! Filius would take the mickey out of her if this turned out to be a love note.

"It was Ishikawa Byakko from the International Confederation of Wizards. He did not want to allow this, but he needed vital information to defuse a weapons cache and this was the only way Gellert would cooperate." The guard looked ill at ease.

And well he should as this was a major violation of the Nurmengard Treaty.

She felt very perturbed by the absolutely insanity of it all. The guard's odd speech cadence wasn't easing her concerns. If Aspen…no… Asen was a native English speaker; she would have sworn that he was double-dealing.

"May I leave? I must return back to my station," he expectantly requested.

"Yes, you can go. Thank you," Minerva automatically responded. Good manners were a dying art and she promoted their use. Carefully, the witch examined the sealed missive. It was Warded so only the addressee could read it and seemed clear of hexes. Its seal was still intact but yet… something was wrong.

"In for a knut, in for a galleon," she misquoted the old proverb and she opened it.

_My dearest Minerva,_

_I find myself deeply concerned about our mutual acquaintance. Recently, I came into information regarding your Severus Snape and his rather unique circumstances. It seems that he has managed to locate Lazar Mikhailov and Ivanka Petrova. They have aided him and have made arrangements for him to be transferred into the care of Nevana Stambolieva, whose loyalty, it now wounds me to admit, now totally belongs to this latest Dark Lord. __Tomorrow night when Mars is at its apex, he will arrive at Prague Orloj where the transfer will take place. _

_I've relayed this information to Albus, out of my, no doubt, misguided sense of noblesse oblige. I know you will doubt my sincerity when I assure that I have always held a special fondness for my dear sweet Albus, irregardless of what transpired between us. _

_I write to you because I fear that Albus might be walking into a trap. Nevana has consolidated her power base in recent years and Albus is quite blinkered regarding Severus and his situation. You well know our shared friend's weakness. His obsessions can blind him to the dangers inherent in a situation. _

_Do not let him go into this alone, I beg of you. I attached the location and time for the transfer so you can provide him with an additional wand and the logical demeanor that he will need. Do not let his passion overwhelm his good sense, Minerva!_

_Naturally, I understand that you doubt my earnestness. I hope my confession will ease your concerns. My hopes are that by helping Albus in this situation, some of the guilt I feel for a shared tragedy will at last be assuaged._

_Warmest regards,_

_G_

"Morgana Le Fay's black bloody bra! I'm not supposed to realize that you're selling me a used broom? All those Brotherhood members are **_quite _**dead!" snorted a disbelieving Minerva. "If Albus was traipsing off to Prague to find Severus, he'd let me know! He'd takethe Order as support!"

Then she remembered a kiss and how a passion, long dormant, had once again flared. She witnessed Albus' slumped shoulders as he realized that the majority of the Order believed that Severus had willingly done a runner back to Who Deserved to be Slowly Castrated with a Dull, Rusty Butter Knife.

He wouldn't ask for help from the reluctant, disinclined Order. Nor would Albus request her assistance. This disaster was completely of his making and therefore, he'd resolve it.

Completely on his own.

As a solitary mage, he once stood against Gellert. Now events had come full circle, and he'd walk alone into this trap.

"I pushed him out of my quarters. No doubt he believes that I'm angry about the kiss. Oh bloody hell; he'll go off to this meeting by himself. Underwanded and mentally distracted! That damn prat will be the bloody death of me!"

Before or after he got himself killed was the only question.

* * *

A/N – yes, a few new names. Two more chapters or so and most of the OCs will be gone.

A/N # 2 edited Minerva's letter from Gellert. :)


	29. Chapter 29

A/N # 1 – NW2A edited Min's love note from Gellert in the previous chapter, so she had some idea where to go. Yes, Gellert sent V a different note than the one Min got. 'Cos he's sneaky.

Thanks to MM for her help.

* * *

"_**I'll**_ pay for the dress," Oxana informed Severus. "You don't have to spend your money on outfits. Sasha and I have set some money aside for this. It's our gift to our goddaughter, so you don't have to worry about the cost adding to your debts."

Severus shook his head, and tersely explained. "I must be the one to buy this particular outfit for her."

The witch protested but still Severus doggedly persevered. For Ariana's first Christmas, he would buy a dress. Severus had long accepted that he wouldn't be there to see his daughter wear it, as he'd be dead. But he would be there in spirit.

Green, it must be a radiant, vivid Slytherin green. Minerva had made a promise regarding the outfit. No doubt the Headmaster would adorn his babe in sparkly, jeweled finery ill-suited for a little sprog, but… she'd need to be changed. Babies required frequent changes due to recurrent eruptions from either ends; the indomitable Minerva _**would**_ get the dress on her.

Ariana would be dressed in emerald and silver for her first Christmas. The colors would be a barbed reminder to one and to all that a Slytherin had been intimately involved with the miracle of her conception.

That would be enough for Severus as pictures would be taken, and hopefully an older Ariana would understand that Severus had given her that for Christmas. No doubt she would wonder about her rather irregular conception. Thankfully, Severus had long accepted the bitter fact that Albus wouldn't really mention _**him**_ to Ariana, so the sting no longer burned as badly. In Albus' Dumbledorish universe, there were lavender unicorns and crup puppies, sweets and Muggle chamber music, no Slytherins allowed, especially after their usefulness had ended, thank you very much.

Considering that Severus had started this sojourn full of piss and vinegar, he was surprisingly fatigued, as though he had run a marathon or three. Oxana claimed it was because he was being weaned off their Heartstone. The magical node that Oxana and Sasha used to protect the shop plus keep him alive was being slowly brought down so the three of them could leave Manchester. Yes, Severus was leaving with the Dark Mage, but first he would buy a Christmas dress to spite the Headmaster. Priding himself on being pragmatic, he decided it best to cover all the possibilities.

"You don't have to find it today," suggested Oxana. "We can go shopping another day."

She earned a nod of acknowledgment, and then he continued to search through the racks. This one was too poofey, that one was a horrible monstrosity the Headmaster would wear if only it came in his size and that one had ribbons on which Ari might choke. Then he found it, in the back, an emerald green taffeta dress embroidered with red roses and long silver vines. There was even a large, black satin bow.

_Ari? Do you think you'd like to wear this? _

In his mind's eye, he saw her, a plump baby with a riotous mass of dark curls wearing the dress. She bounced up and down excitedly, seemingly pleased with his choice… Then Ari frowned and looked at her feet. She wiggled her plump toes and then beseechingly looked up at him.

_Slippers_, she reminded him. _Ari needs slippers, Papa! Maybe a green hair bow? Please, Papa!_

"I'll need to get satin slippers and a matching hair bow," he said out loud. "But I think this is the dress."

* * *

By the time they reached Wizards Thatch in Alderley Edge, he was staggering and near physical collapse. The deceptively strong Oxana had slipped one arm around him and was physically supporting him.

"You're doing remarkably well considering this is your first day off the Heartstone. Don't you fret about being tired, dear. It's to be expected. Now, Sasha sent us here because there's a rumor that King Arthur and his army are sleeping nearby, awaiting their chance to serve England once more," Oxana explained. "He so enjoys King Arthur myths."

"Such a romantic, our Sasha is," Severus sniped.

"He is. Now let's get you into bed," she ordered. "I'll be sharing the bed with you, but it's quite large."

He was too knackered to even manage a quip about how sharing a bed with Oxana would ruin his unblemished reputation, so he just nodded. His dreams overtook him almost as soon as he crawled into the truly mammoth four poster bed, which was hung in scarlet and gold tapestry. Really, surrounded by all the Gryffindor frippery, it was not a surprise that he dreamed of the Headmaster…

_Albus Dumbledore switched into something a little more Muggle like than his usual lavender bespangled robes. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and shook his head. Charity Burbage had assured him that he'd fit in with the other tourists in Prague in this most outlandish of clothes. Black trousers, a plain white shirt and a black leather jacket. No splash of color! How drab! Charity had specifically ordered that he wasn't to wear a muffler. With a soft sigh of regret, he decided that it would be necessary to shorten his hair and beard. Its length and condition was a great vanity of his, but his signature coif was rather noticeable. It wasn't December 5__th__, so a figure reminiscent of Szent Miklós out and about on the streets of Prague would be rather noticeable._

_"I'll find him…I swear that I will bring Severus home and then Confine him to Hogwarts until our child is born," Albus firmly assured Fawkes. "Before long, he'll be here. Soon."_

Severus woke in darkness then, his heart pounding. Nadya was curled next to him and questioningly chirped when he woke.

"He's going to find me," he whispered. "Take me back to Hogwarts and confine me until Ariana is born. He'll take her from me. I know he will…"

Oxana stirred next to him and ordered, "Put your hand on your pendant. Hold it tight."

The jade dragon pendant felt warm in his hand and he squeezed it.

"As long as you wear that, the only way he'll be able to find you if he knows where you are _**physically**_. Magically, your essence is disguised. We have Glamoured you into being unrecognizable, never forget that. He can't Trace you or Soul Locate you," the witch whispered. "Good news, I heard from Sasha, we can return home tomorrow as the air will be safe for you to breathe. Now go back to sleep. You need to rest as our shop is backlogged! Closing the shop on a Monday afternoon! I never thought Sasha would do that. "

He closed his eyes. As Severus drifted back to sleep, Nadya increased her purring and his thoughts were full of Minerva.

_Go to sleep, Severus. I'll protect you_, his dream Minerva promised.

* * *

The wave of exhaustion was so unexpected that Minerva McGonagall nearly fell into Aberforth's embrace. As it was, they almost got to know each other biblically as Abeforth's hands were in distinctively no-man's territory.

"Arthur's in the parlor," the embarrassed Aberforth gruffly stated.

"Thank you," the witch said, attempting not to inhale. Aberforth did smell like a goat, and while it wasn't an unpleasant musky smell… perhaps it was a bit overpowering? When she entered his home…her mind refused to say HOVEL, though it did shout barn, shed and milling goat herd, she found the reason.

Arthur Weasley was giving a fully grown goat a bottle. To a purist like Minerva, it was bad enough to entertain goats in the parlor but to bottle feed a full grown goat smacked of molly coddling. It was no real revelation that the ginger-haired father of the Weasley multitudes seemed remarkably at ease at doing so, as apparently one kid was much like another regardless of the number of legs. The blissful goat was contentedly sucking away.

"Mattie's an orphan," Aberforth tersely explained. "Mattie, when you're done, it's off to bed with you. It's time for your bedtime. Looks like there will be no story tonight."

The goat stopped in midsuck. If goats could pout, this one had it mastered. The look on his face could only be one of betrayal and Aberforth growled, "I've got important business!"

The sulky goat trotted off to wherever his bed was and Minerva prayed that Aberforth wasn't sharing a bed with Mattie. Though it would explain a great many things, none of which a rather stressed Minerva McGonagall truly wished to dwell upon.

Her eyes involuntarily rolled heavenward as if in prayer..._Severus, I will never let Aberforth raised the bairn, I so swear! _

The goat stuck his head around the corner of the door and looked hopeful, as though expecting a reprieve. He nickered hopefully.

"NONE OF THAT BACKTALK, BOYO! _**BEDTIME**_!" Aberforth roared and the goat softly bleated. "HEAD ON THE PILLOW OR _**NO**_ BEDTIME STORIES FOR A _**WEEK**_!"

There was a final, weak nag of goatly protest, a counteroffer of no stories for a whole _**month**_, the scampering of cloven hooves and then the creak of a bed as Mattie made himself comfy.

"So, we're there. What do you want?" the down-market Dumbledore growled. "Make it quick. I need to tuck him into bed. He's an orphan and needs structure in his life. You know, a regular bedtime is a good habit to get into."

Minerva bit her tongue to prevent herself from informing Abeforth that his little "orphan" billy goat kid was in fact old enough to populate the parlor with numerous grandkids for Aberforth to spoil. But no doubt Mattie was a down-to-earth goat, and would be indisposed to ruin a good arrangement.

"As you're aware, Albus canceled tomorrow's Order Meeting. I believe that is because he will be in Prague. I fear that it will be an ambush, and I'd like to request your help." Minerva decided it was best to keep her plea simple and unemotional.

If she thought that there would be slimmest chance of success, Minerva would have gone to each and every Order member and begged for their assistance. However Minerva knew too well the recent mood of the Order. Mad Eye and Sirius had managed to spread their Anti-Snape prejudices amongst the Order. There would be no unexpected help from them. As it was, she wasn't sure that Arthur would agree to this madness but there was the faintest glimmer of hope as she knew him to be fair minded.

"Backup? For my brother?" Aberforth then paused for a moment, relishing the pleasant daydream of swooping in to salvage his brother's latest cock up. "That will hurt his pride."

He laughed softly, apparently enjoying the chance to get back at Albus.

"To hell with his pride," retorted Minerva. Merlin's twisted pants, Severus was what mattered. "Aberforth…"

"Minerva, you're moving a bit fast for me," Arthur interrupted. "Last thing I knew Severus wanted to leave. Why would we be part of dragging him back?"

"Boy got tired of being used by my bloody sainted and obsessive brother," spat Aberforth. His spit splattered close to Minerva's boot, but she refused to flinch. "Went from the griddle into the flames. I'm _**in**_. Got to rescue Severus and my goddaughter. Then you and I, Minnie, we _**will**_ protect the kid from her father. Albus can't be trusted with anything fragile, you know."

Aberforth loving glanced toward Mattie's bedroom and nodded his head.

"He'll leave the poor thing hungry and in a dirty nappy while he runs off on some ego-building crusade...she'll need proper care from an experienced hand. Don't you worry, Minnie, I am more than willingly to do my part in raising her."

Minerva couldn't help but shudder as she imagined Severus' daughter being fed while standing and being taught to eat cereal from Aberforth's hand. If Aberforth wasn't restrained, the bairn would be requiring a bottle for her Hogwarts' meals!

Arthur struggled to process everything he had just heard without wearing his shock on his face, but his jaw did go a bit slack involuntarily. Minerva wasn't sure what got her goat more, that Aberforth had blithely announced something better kept secret, or the fact that he had called her Minnie.

"You have a Goddaughter?" Arthur questioned. "Albus? He's a father? I thought we were talking about Severus? What the bloody hell have I been drinking? I thought I just had a cup of goat's milk. You didn't tell me it was spiked! Have your goats gotten into some sort of funny grass, Aberforth?"

"Forget I mentioned anything," a shamefaced Aberforth mumbled. "Wasn't supposed to bring it up."

"Abe," growled Minerva. She shouldn't be angry as it was far too late to put the goat back in its pen, but… damn Aberforth! "You… _**You**_…"

"Minerva? Aberforth? This conversation is so far beyond cryptic that it's completely nonsensical," inserted a rather gobsmacked Arthur. He had a glimmer of what they were talking about, but Arthur Weasley was a sensible man. There was a natural order to the world, even the magical world, and men having babies had no part in it. "Did I fall down the rabbit hole?"

"Mattie needs to be tucked into bed. He's a growing goat and needs his rest," rumbled Aberforth, who then ran for the hills… bedroom, leaving Minerva McGonagall, the universally ordained bailer outer of the leaky boat known as the HMS Dumbledore... the witch sentenced to a life sentence of unbuggering all the Dumbledore related buggering, facing a confused Arthur Weasley.

"You can't tell me," acknowledged Arthur. "But… just 'yay' or 'nay' will be sufficient. You believe Severus is loyal to the Order but is in a bit of a jam. Albus is heading into an ambush, and he's not asking for help from the Order because he thinks we have all forgotten how loyal Severus has been."

"Aye," she answered. So far so good. Hopefully that would be enough for Arthur?

"There's a baby involved? No wonder Albus has been acting bloody blinkered…" was Arthur's next comment. "No… no… _**that**_ you can't answer… but what the bloody hell happened to Severus? Can you tell me that much?"

"It's more like what didn't happen to Severus. He Whom I Wish Nothing More than to Castrate with a Dull, Rusty Butter Knife happened to Severus," Minerva explained. She paused, debating what she should say next. "When He found out Severus' true loyalties, He systematically tortured Severus with a literal army of Polyjuiced Albuses… There were some matters that needed to be resolved between Albus and Severus. I told Albus to back off as Severus was in no condition to deal with him…"

"Albus can be a tad overwhelming," helpfully offered Arthur.

"Albus backed off…but by doing so, Severus reasoned that Albus was abandoning him…as maimed, he felt no longer held any value to the Order. He fled… I fear that now he is being held prisoner by a Dark Wizard."

"He Who Must Not Be Named has him?" questioned Arthur.

"No…" This is where Minerva once more realized how absolutely barmy this tale of woe sounded. "Gellert's followers."

"I thought that they were all dead," Arthur protested. "Never mind, I'm sure you have your reasons. The question is… why didn't Albus ask for your help? Why is he doing this solo?"

"Albus has chosen not to confide in me," the witch tersely answered. Left unspoken was Minerva' belief that Albus was being a daft prat.

Arthur tilted his head, quirked an eyebrow and waited for more. Subconsciously, he radiated a soothing "Confess all to Father Arthur and Receive Solace" aura.

"That's all you'll get from me," she snapped. She was not a Weasley and she made a habit of confessing her sins and transgressions to no man. "Are you in or are you not? We need to be in Prague."

The head of the Weasley family pondered the situation while Minerva attempted to remain calm. Damn it, she needed Arthur. He wasn't the experienced street fighter that she was, couldn't hex a drunken crowd into submission like Aberforth, but he was level-headed and courageous. Weasley would be a badly needed asset in this sticky wicket.

"I'm in," he decided. The witch opened her mouth to express her gratitude, but Weasley interrupted her, "Don't thank me as if I am doing something gallant. Severus is an order member - a loyal order member – and that means he gets my help. Let me go home, inform Molly that I'm out on Order business tomorrow and that it is a secret mission. I'll meet you here?"

"Very well," Minerva agreed.

"See you when I see you," he promised.

* * *

Even distracted and emotionally distraught, Albus still managed to avoid the eagle eyes of Minerva McGonagall… only thanks to his loyal familiar, Fawkes. It was Tuesday afternoon, and she was stalking him with all the enthusiastic vigor of a large, hungry cat.

_Down the hallway_, Fawkes informed him. _Take the left. She looks quite determined to talk to you._

He followed the directions quickly, and then fled to his office where he told his stone sentries that no one, _**especially**_ his Deputy Headmistress, no matter how determined, was permitted to enter.

"Unless Hogwarts is on fire," he informed Bob, the stone Gargoyle. "And if it's Minerva, she'll need someone to confirm that she didn't start it."

Bob the Gargoyle, thankfully not very talkative as Albus was in no mood for witty conversation, quietly agreed.

_You have a full schedule today. You should cancel your appointments as you should nap. _Fawkes pedantically instructed him as though Albus was only a Phoenix chick._ Tonight, you must be in top form._

"I will only be a mere one hundred and fifteen years old on my next birthday," Albus dryly informed Fawkes. "So I am ever appreciative that you're here to mentor me as I'm obviously in need of assistance."

_One hundred and sixteen years in Phoenix years_, retorted his familiar. _If one counts the years properly. _

"I do not count the time I was in the womb," was Albus' normal rejoinder to this old, familiar tease between them. "But I am quite certain that my mother did."

The quip wasn't voiced, instead an exhausted Albus gracelessly collapsed onto his settee. "I feel every single second of my one hundred and fourteen years," he softly admitted.

It was a painful admission for him. For most of his long years, Albus had been so bloody cocky, confident that he still possessed the strength and the stamina of a much younger wizard. Not any more. His piss and vinegar had long gone for a Burton and had decided not to return. On the afternoon before a looming battle, the very time when he would need to be at his strongest, Albus Dumbledore was utterly drained.

Fawkes crooned softly and Albus briefly closed his eyes. He should return to his bed for a nice long lie-in, but the settee seemed to be physically attached to him. It would be futile, he assured himself, to walk to his bed as he'd have to drag the settee after him. Best stay where he was, sooner or later the settee would get bored and find someone else to attach itself to.

_Don't go alone tonight. You might need help. _

"There's no one I can ask," mumbled Albus. He felt the displacement of air as Fawkes appeared over him and dropped something warm and fuzzy on his ancient bones. It was a continental quilt.

_Not true! NOT TRUE! Silly little nestling! Am I __**nobody**__? _

"I don't want you hurt," protested the mage to his familiar. "You are all I have."

_You're not alone! _Fawkes' tone was reproachful.

Feeling more than slightly maudlin, Albus wiped his tearing eyes.  
_  
When we find Severus, we'll bring him back home to heal. You just need to let him regain his confidence. I know it's difficult to hold back, but cosseting him so tightly that he can not breathe will not help him mend. When a chick falls out of the nest, they're scared. Our chicks need to know that we are confident in them. If we hold them back they will never take that first leap from the nest."_

"I just thought that I should help," Albus whispered. "I had the money, he didn't. All of his money went toward his mother's care. He didn't even have a proper pair of boots, Fawkes. Yet, whenever the Board increased his wages, he would just turn it all over to that horrid hospice. He didn't keep any of it for himself. I had to help him… because I couldn't fail someone that needed my assistance. Not like I did Ariana…"

_Go to sleep. I'll sing you to sleep. _

_

* * *

_

Returning back to shop the next afternoon, Severus thought that he'd be put to work settling the backlog of potions. Instead, a freshly shorn Sasha quickly examined him, declared him in passable health, brutally chastised him for not buying more daygros and poppers for the sprog as Sasha was paying for them, and then demanded that Severus follow him into the parlor.

"You and I need to discuss important matters. Oxana, will you join us also?" Sasha requested. He then rubbed his head as though he wanted additional physical confirmation about his hair loss. "Sit… _**sit**_…First of all, we've got company. I've got two dozen various mages staying for the night while they're waiting for their port key."

Severus sat down and Sasha approvingly nodded his head. "The three of us will be bunking in your room. I wouldn't give your room away, but one of the witches is quite close to term, so I gave her Oxana's bed."

Oxana sighed and shook her head.

"I'm willing to bunk on the floor but Oxana, your back is a bit dodgy. But that's not the big issue; I'm not sure the best way to mention this…"

The Dark Mage paused and Severus was secretly bemused that dear, sweet, barmy, mass murdering Sasha was really nervous. It was rather… droll.

"Cut the palaver," suggested Severus. "I've got potions to brew. My boss is a tyrant who doesn't like me piss-balling around."

As expected, Sasha quirked a quick smile.

"Just a tyrant? The bastard's a despot! Severus… it's your mother," Sasha began. "I wish I didn't have to tell you this, but she's dying. It's only a matter of time."

Severus quirked one eyebrow at Sasha and shook his head. Really, Sasha didn't know that Severus' mother was moribund? "I know she's failing. Now, may I get back to work?"

"No… I'm not talking her usual condition of status asparagus," protested Sasha. "Listen to me; she's well and truly _**dying**_. Her organs are shutting down, Severus. She'll be dead within the week. Would you like to visit her before she dies?"

"No doubt Dumbledore has the hospice heavily warded, I'll never be able to get in to see her," Severus calmly stated.

Yes, put the blame on a fear of Dumbledore, as that would be an acceptable reason for not visiting one's dying mother, rather than a complete lack of interest. Sasha wasn't displeased with his refusal; no instead, he seemed quite pleased.

"I believe that he'll be quite busy tonight around ten in the evening," was Sasha's ready answer.

The explosives? Sasha wasn't going to bomb Hogwarts in a fit of pique, was he? All those dead students, bodies strewn throughout the Great Hall, the little black pointed hats… No… no… there was no way Sasha would do _**that**_… He slipped Muggle children sweets when they came into the shop!

"I can get you in and you can have a quick visit. Rada's been playing with the wards and added a few modifications. She's a very subtle caster, so her addendums appear to have been unobserved. Really, they shouldn't perceive them unless they attempt to Apparate directly to the hospice while you're visiting your mother. They'll bounce off harmlessly to another location and we'll be able to escape. Don't be so worried, you should know that I wouldn't risk you and my goddaughter if I wasn't completely confident that we can get you in and out."

Severus realized that while he was attempting to keep his emotions in check, he had still managed to reveal his unease. He was rubbing his belly, instinctively attempting to pacify the current occupant.

"And what if the Headmaster decides to enter through the front door?" questioned Severus. "I understand that it's a rather quaint way of entering a building, but he might be in a whimsical mood. I highly doubt it, as he's such a stolid soul."

His quip earned a narrowing of Sasha's green eyes. "Even if he rappels down a rope being tightly held by his Phoenix, he won't be able to enter the building without us being aware. We'll have enough time to get you out. Rada, Toma and Byakko have taken it upon themselves to do this for you and I know the sterling quality of their work."

That tidbit stopped Severus' hand in midrub.

"They know about my mother?" Severus softly questioned. There a quiver in his belly when he realized that he had been entirely too trusting of the Bulgarian.

"Severus, I brought you into my house," the Bulgarian explained. "At great risk to my fellow cell members and the Harbinger. The blood in your parents' veins could be used to trace your location, and I needed the connection to be broken. Toma is quite proficient in blood magic and he created the necessary magic. Byakko is the only one that knows the complete circumstances behind you. But I trust him with my life. As the Harbinger, he knows how to contact Snezhana besides being aware of the location of all my brothers and sisters are scattered across the globe. He'd die before he revealed anything, but I would not willingly put my brother through torture, especially since he's to become a father again."

"Byakko?" Oxana inserted.

"Yes. His wife is the one in your bed. Yes, he's gotten remarried. She's Toma and Rada's granddaughter. Yes, Rada was involved with Sofia, but after his sister died, Toma made a donation… or three…Yes, the entire lot of us are horribly inbred but it's hard to find a suitable life partner when everyone in the free wizarding world wants you dead, and can we focus on the current situation and less on who's related to whom in the Brotherhood?" Sasha rapidly stated.

Severus blinked quickly, attempting to comprehend what Sasha had just rambled at a quick pace. He decided that he really didn't want to know about the breeding habit of Dark Wizards and instead did a quick calculation. He came up with a sizeable sum. Hesitantly, Severus questioned, "The Brotherhood has been in hiding for nigh near fifty years… and in that time, you had families… all of whom probably followed in your beliefs. How many of you are there?"

"Until you take the Oath, I can not tell you that," Sasha assured him. "Don't worry, you'll know soon enough. We're extremely interested in recruiting you to our cause."

Merlin's scrote! A Death Eater, Order Member and now a prospective Brotherhood member. Truly, an embarrassment of riches. Wouldn't Eileen be so proud of how her son had turned out?

"Oh," whispered Severus. Then realizing that perhaps his lack of enthusiasm might not be received favorably, Severus attempted to put a positive spin on things. "I am… quite…. honored."

He didn't even want to think about what horrors the initiation rites might include. They might want… to… repeat… what happened… His stomach roiled at the thought of providing carnal entertainment for hundreds of Gellert sworn Dark Wizards. Sasha sat next to him.

"Snezhana hoped that by providing you with the opportunity to visit your mother without fear of being harassed by either Snakey Face or St. Albus, it would prove to you that we are capable magicians, worthy of your considerable skills. She sends her compliments to you."

The Dark Wizard paused and then hesitantly continued. "What happened to you… how you were abused… by them both… it would not happen again… if you would choose to join us. You have honored me, chosen me to be Godfather to your child… and I would be delighted to call you my brother."

Once again, Severus felt that sinking feeling in his gut and he swallowed.

Sasha clasped Severus' hand and then he knelt before Severus. Deliberately, he placed Severus' hand over his heart. This had the aura of a ritual and Oxana was watching them both intently.

"Here on my knee, I vow to God above, I'll never pause again, never stand still, till either death hath closed these eyes of mine or fortune given me measure of revenge. I, Damyan Georgiev Draganov, vow on my soul and on my name, that I will defend my brother, Severus Tobias Snape, to my very death. I will avenge the horrific wrongs that have been inflicted on your noble soul. Will you accept my pledge, my brother?" Sasha asked.

The Dark Mage's green eyes were penetrating and Severus was overwhelmed by a calamitous portent.

_Sasha, sightless eyes open wide, was lying bloody and still in green grass, while a conquering Albus Dumbledore cavalierly stepped over Sasha's broken body. "You're coming with me, Severus. I've long since lost my patience with you… it's time for you to stop running."_

"I… can not ask this of you," protested Severus. "You have taken me into your house… healed me… I can not ask for more."

"Brother, you have not solicited for my assistance. I have declared my intention, now, you can accept my vow or you can refuse. But know this; I _**will**_ take vengeance, my brother, whether or not you give me permission. Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort will look upon me and know _**fear**_," vowed Sasha. "For it will behoove them not, to come unaware upon a live Dragon and his wrath."

"I don't want you to die for me," shakily asserted Severus. Then, he quickly added, "Brother, I do not desire to lose you."

"Then I pledge that I will not die," was the Bulgarian's cocky retort. He then released Severus' hand and stood. "My shop is calling for me and it is decrying my neglect of it. That reminds me, I have ordered a new cleaver to match the rest of your potion set. The previous owner shattered the original cleaver in defense of his family and since he was no longer able to use the set, I never replaced it. It's been so long that I had forgotten that the set was cleaver-less."

"You… never told me who owned the set originally," Severus reminded him.

"Adrik Zoravkov," Sasha slowly admitted.

The name was not one of Gellert's known followers.

"Adrik?" Severus repeated. "Is that why you call me… Adrik?"

"You reminded me of him… when I found you in the alleyway. So determined to fight until the last, even though you had no strength. Adrik… was my father's sister's son. Not just my cousin, but my father's _**sister's**_ son. When the Draganov curse awoke in me, the Czech Aurors were sent after him, as the Bulgarian Aurors Department consisted of only very small chunks. Sadly, the Draganov curse is only passed down from the father to the son, so his blood was clean. That didn't stop them. Adrik, dear, sweet, splendid Adrik fought to the bitter end, and he sunk his cleaver deep into the Lead Auror's heart."

Sasha was trapped in the memories of his dead and then he blinked his eyes.

"I avenged him, his wife and his three little girls. It took me time, but I killed every single one of those Czech Aurors. I was… Godfather… to his oldest girl, Krasimira."

There was a profound silence and then Sasha mumbled about returning to the shop. He left the parlor, leaving Severus and Oxana.

"You look done in, why don't you lie down," Oxana suggested. "I'll wake you around eight? That way you can get ready to visit your mother."

But I have no desire to see my mother, Severus thought. But the emotional burden of what had just occurred was weighing heavily on him. It would be best for him to retire to his room so he could process everything. Sasha had offered him with the most remarkable gift.

_**Friendship**_.

And comradeship with Severus would in turn lead to the Bulgarian's death. Severus didn't possess an ounce of foresight but there had been the bitter sting of truth in his vision. To Severus' profound shame, his eyes were tearing and he brusquely wiped them. Must be the damn hormones. A man's body wasn't meant to endure this, that was why he was acting so barmy!

"He's exceedingly fond of you, you know. When you wanted him to be Godfather, he was bloody well _**chuffed**_. I know he kept refusing to be Godfather, but he was just being radgie gadgie Sasha," Oxana helpful explained. "You've done him a lot of good by being here. He needs to be reminded of the man he once was. His friends… they're dragging him back into the Brotherhood. I quite like Sasha, as you are well aware… but Damyan… his rage frightens me."

"My Brother is an extraordinary man," offered Severus.

"Yes, he is," the witch agreed. "You do know, my dear Adrik, that since you and Sasha are now Brothers in heart that means that you and I are now Brother and Sister. I hope you believe that I will defend you also. I am an excellent defensive witch and Sasha is quite the attacking mage."

_Oxana Kameneva stepped in front of Severus, and faced the Dark Lord's followers. Recklessly, she laughed her defiance at them. Severely outnumbered, the witch bravely stood her ground, refusing to yield._ _The Hexes hit her hard and her body collapsed in a boneless heap at Severus' feet._

"I do not understand what I've done to earn the strength of your regard," protested a tearing Severus.

She pushed his dark hair out of his eyes and then smiled.

"Just by being you, dear one," she assured him.

"No one has ever said that to me," he slowly admitted. "Usually… most don't like it when I'm… me…"

_The Headmaster hadn't... Lily always tried to improve me... _

"You need a new circle of acquaintances," the witch retorted.

* * *

Voldemort ignored the puppy dog look in Bellatrix LeStrange's eyes. He was quite aware of the witch's illicit thoughts toward him, but the ability of partake in the pleasures of the flesh had long since abandoned his sparse frame. Sex was merely a momentary distraction when compared to tempting glory of immortality.

Mentally, he reviewed the imprisoned Gellert's letter to the Gryffindor Bitch. Truly, if Gellert had any pride he should have committed suicide rather than being taken alive. Perhaps, he had naively believed that his zealot followers would have stormed his prison. No, his fanatic faction had done no such thing.

They were all long dead, now written off to only being a list of names to frighten young magelings.

Yes, all long dead, except for the three mages who had decided to involve themselves with the traitor Severus Snape.

_Dearest Minerva,_

_Recently, I came into information regarding your Severus Snape and his rather unique circumstances. It seems that he has managed to locate Lazar Mikhailov and Ivanka Petrova. They have aided him and have made arrangements for him to be transferred into the care of Nevana Stambolieva. Tomorrow night when Mars is at its apex, the prisoner will arrive at Prague Orloj where the transfer will take place._

_Out of a misguided sense of noblesse oblige, I have notified Albus. I don't know if he'll listen, as he was always headstrong. No doubt he'll be horribly embarrassed and decide to handle the matter himself in order to keep it quiet. Impregnating one of your male instructors and then kicking him out in the cold is rather vulgar, even for our lavender clad friend. _

_I hope that you will take kindly to my assistance in this matter. Perhaps, you might be appreciative enough for this information to sneak me some contraband items? Nothing too much, perhaps… any of the following would be greatly appreciated. I truly miss the finer tastes in life. _

The deluded, would be ruler of the world had been reduced to plaintively whinging for sweets and wine.

How _**pathetic**_.

First thing Voldemort vowed to do after he had rebroken Severus Snape was kill Gellert Grindelwald. It would be a mercy killing. To sink so low… to lack anything resembling pride?

"Go, find Severus, Bellatrix. Bring him back alive," ordered Voldemort. "The baby and its mother must be kept alive."

* * *

"I've always wanted to go to Prague, I understand it has some truly remarkable architecture," Arthur joked. "But at eleven in the evening, I'm afraid that I can't see a ruddy thing."

"Don't like this, Minnie," Aberforth mumbled. "This smells like an ambush."

_No, you smell your goat infused coat,_ Minerva mentally protested. Damn good thing that the strangers weren't down wind as they would have wondered when the barn had arrived in the square.

The three of them were standing in a narrow alleyway, and the Prague Astronomical Clock was still standing proudly in the Old Town Square, ticking away the time. At the top of the hour, the various figurines performed their pantomime before retiring before their next routine. Truly, the clock was a marvel of Muggle engineering.

"No, I don't see your brother," Minerva whispered. "He's probably in another alleyway."

"Any sign of Severus? Your eyes are sharper than mine," questioned Arthur. "Wait… is that three figures near The Church of Our Lady in front of Týn?"

"Early," whispered Aberforth. "The Apex of Mars isn't for another three minutes and fifteen seconds."

The thought that allegedly illiterate Aberforth was able to correctly calculate the Apex of Mars with only a glance at the stars was rather unnerving.

"Shhh…" commanded Minerva. "Give me a moment."

She only partially transformed herself into her Animagus form, just enough to sharpen her night vision. Yes, there were three figures near the church, one robed figure's profile seemingly gravid. They were walking toward the clock, but something wasn't right. This was coming together entirely too easy.

"There's another figure," hissed Arthur. "On the right."

Having been close with Albus, Minerva McGonagall intimately knew the taste of his magic. When a solitary figure silently arrived near the clock, she knew who it was.

"Albus is here," she whispered. "We'll let him handle it. If he has any problems, we'll jump in."

"Best if we stay out of the matter. Since he's not expecting us, he'd be quite likely to Hex first, Question later," agreed Aberforth. "Always was a bit too eager to rely on his wand."

_While you were always willing to use your fists_, Minerva thought.

"Where is the person that they're meeting?" whispered Arthur. "Shouldn't they be here?"

"There's movement on the bridge," Aberforth stated. "Seems like a whole bunch of people. Enough to ambush even my brother."

"Be prepared to attack on my mark," ordered Minerva. "Stun if possible."

* * *

Albus quietly arrived in the cobblestone streets. In his pockets, he had prepared several port keys that would cause the traveler to arrive in the Hogwarts Infirmary. Poppy was working this evening, thankfully, so Severus could be examined immediately by someone familiar with his unique situation.

There were three people in the square and deliberately, he stepped out of the alleyway. Pretending to be a drunken Muggle, he took a quick sip of pumpkin juice from a silver flask. His exit earned a growl from a rather large, completely disreputable dog with only one eye that was reclining underneath one of the benches that were sprinkled throughout the square. When the hell had that stray appeared? He hadn't seen it when he had examined the square!

The three figures then Disapparated, leaving Albus quite vexed. Three new silhouettes stepped out of the darkness and Albus raised his wand. He lowered it after he realized who they were.

"Minerva," he growled. "What are you doing here?"

"Albus, there are people on the bridge. They're coming this way," Minerva informed him. "Do we stay? Or do we get out of here?"

It was too late as the newcomers Apparated into the square. Bellatrix LeStrange was nearly foaming at the mouth when she roared, "Where is he? Where is the traitor Severus Snape?"

The one eye dog appeared not only starving for food, but for entertainment, as his floppy ears picked up as he watched the scene unfold. His long tail wagged in excitement as he crept along, his belly close to the crowd.

Above the combatants, the uncaring clock ticked on. At 11:04:51 in the evening when Mars reached its apex, the dials of the ancient timepiece, crafted by long-dead Muggle engineers, moved into position.

Then the ground beneath the clock exploded.

* * *

The dirt underneath him exploded and the fumes it released burned Albus' mouth and nose. He began to choke from the acrid vapors.

_Bublet_, Albus silently cast the Bubble Head Charm and he was able to breathe once more.

Rodolphus LeStrange lay still on the pavement, surrounded by several other fallen Death Eaters. The one eye stray appeared uncaring of the exploding earth as he grabbed Rodolphus by the sleeve and began to drag him off the battlefield. The strange acting dog became the least of Albus' concerns as the remaining Death Eaters attacked in mass.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Arthur Weasley was down, blood streaming from his nose and face. Aberforth was casting a rather intricate spell as the prone Arthur was in next to no time encased in a protective bubble. With a quick flick of his wrist, Albus threw a button at Arthur. With a flash, the port key activated taking the fallen Weasley to the infirmary.

_Damn it, damn it! Minerva, Aberforth and Arthur! I've got to get them out of here!_

"Get out of here!" he said to his brother. "I'll take point!"

"Minnie's already engaged! We can't leave her here!" Aberforth protested. Wonder of wonders, Aberforth was barefaced.

"You can't breathe this!" protested Albus. "The vapors!"

"I've breathed far worse! Now we've got to get Minnie out of here!" His brother retorted.

Yes, Minerva was channeling Boadicea, battling four Death Eaters at once. Her face was almost completely covered by the Bubble Head Charm. Her wand flicked and swished… and damn it, she was bloody magnificent.

The Dumbledore brothers, united in a common goal, were a force with which to be reckoned. Aberforth was a wily street fighter, victor of many a bar room brawl. His skills might be overshadowed by his more famous brother, but Aberforth fought dirty and he fought to win. No Hex was too low to be used in this, a fight to save _**his**_ Goddaughter. And well… Albus… he was the greatest wizard of his generation.

Meanwhile, unnoticed in all the excitement, the one eyed dog Disapparated away, taking his prisoner with him.

* * *

Severus Snape Apparated into his mother's hospice ward. He looked at Sasha who nodded his head once.

"They know we're here," the wizard tersely informed him. "Five… ten minutes… at the most… and then we leave."

He nodded his understanding, and then Severus looked at his mother. Eileen had further collapsed into herself, becoming even more contracted than when he had last visited her. She was covered in a green and silver afghan, and in her arms, there was a knitted teddy bear. Drool dribbled from her mouth and Severus wiped it away with the corner of her afghan.

_The Headmaster has been here_, he thought. _He has taken better care of you than I ever could have. He would be able to take better care of Ari than I ever could. What type of life could I offer her? The chance to marry into Gellert's Brotherhood?_

Eileen was febrile and her breathing was loud. Her thin hair was plastered against her skull.

"She has pneumonia," Sasha explained. "Plus, she's in end stage renal failure. She's not in any pain though."

"Good," whispered Severus. He put his hand on his mother's mitten covered hand. "I'm here, Mother. I came to see you..."

He said nothing else. It would be futile, as his mother couldn't hear him. She didn't even know that he was there. At the end of her life, their tattered relationship was still unchanged. No matter how hard he tried to connect with his mother, he had never succeeded.

"Severus? What are your wishes in this?" Sasha intently questioned. "They're keeping her alive, preventing her passing beyond the Veil."

"I would let her go," Severus softly said. "I know that the Headmaster is keeping her alive… but this is not what she would have wanted. Let it end. She's fought hard for a very long time… now we should let her go…"

"Very well," Sasha agreed. "Let us begin. May the Lord forgive me the presumption of doing this, but there is no one else here. Lord have mercy on us."

"Christ have mercy on us," answered Oxana.

"Lord have mercy on us. Christ, hear us," intoned Sasha.

"Christ, graciously hear us…."

Severus let them say their prayer for Eileen. He kept silent, attempting to keep his emotions under control. Memories of his mother filled his mind, his parents' fighting, the times when he was just a little one when his mother had attempted to protect him from Tobias. The freshly baked Eccles Cakes that had greeted him on his first day home from his term at Hogwarts. Yes, Eileen had loved him until Tobias had utterly defeated her and then the simple act of loving her son had required too much energy. Her primary focus had always been to keep Tobias happy. When Tobias' demands had increased, naturally, her son had fallen by the wayside.

_I'd never do that to you, Ari. I'd love you forever and ever, no matter what. Even if you loved the Headmaster so much that you wouldn't be able to love even the slightest part of me, I would still love you. I'd never stop trying to be the parent you deserve._

"I should have killed him," Severus interrupted the final stanza of the prayer. "I should have killed my father when he pushed her down the flight of steps… I should have….but he was my father…"

Byakko interrupted. "Toma informs me that Prague is going all pear shape. Explosions everywhere. Plus the Goblin's just bounced off our wards. We're leaving. _**Now**_."

Byakko disappeared without a noise and then Oxana reached for Severus. "Have to go," she said. "Say goodbye."

He leaned over his mother and he brushed her forehead with his lips.

_I never stopped loving you,_ he thought. _I thought if I became powerful enough to save you from Tobias, you could love me once more. But you never wanted to leave Tobias as you were addicted to him. Mother, I received my fatal flaw from you, and I both curse and thank you for it. Without my sick obsession for the Headmaster, I'd never have Ari._

Severus didn't want to leave. When his mother died, he should be there… Eileen shouldn't die alone and forgotten in a hospice. While he was struggling to stand, Severus felt that strange feeling in his belly once more and he rubbed his stomach.

"Congratulations are in order, Brother," dryly quipped Sasha. "It seems that you've quickened. Now get out of here. I need a moment alone with Eileen to help this along. Oxana, give him what I've prepared and put him to bed. I'll join the two of you later, as I have a long night ahead of me."

* * *

The injured Arthur Weasley's arrival in the midst of the infirmary caused quite the ruckus. Poppy Pomfrey immediately went to work stabilizing him. In between preparing her various draughts and potions, she called for Minerva McGonagall. When no answer was forthcoming, she contacted Remus Lupin and Filius Fitwick.

"He's concussed," she tersely explained. "Plus his lungs have been burnt by inhaling some sort of poison. Albus isn't here, Minerva's gone. This reeks of Order business. What the hell is happening?"

"I have no idea," Remus stated. "Filius?"

Filius Flitwick was distracted and he pulled a pocket watch out of a pocket. He fiddled with it for a moment and then he shook his head.

"I have to go," he tersely explained. "Severus just entered his mother's Hospice room. I need to get there. Call the Order together, Remus. Send Elphias and Emmeline Vance to the Hospice, and have Alastor and the rest be prepared for whatever might happen next. The odds of this being a coincidence are quite small. Arthur is injured and Severus is visiting his mother at the same time? They're related, I'm sure of it. The game's afoot, Remus!"

The Charms Master Disapparated to St. Barbara's Hospice as soon as he cleared the Anti-Disapparation barrier at Hogwarts. For all his trouble, Flitwick found himself neck deep in the middle of the goldfish pond. A few of the more adventurous goldfish nibbled at his fingers to see if the diminutive Charms Master was tasty or not. A rather saucy fish attempted to swim up his trouser leg to find a tastier treat and was nearly turned into sashimi for his impudence.

"Bugger!" Filius cursed. "Bugger! Bugger! _**BUGGER**_!"

The Charms Master continued to curse while he 'popped' out of the pond, dried off his clothes and stormed over to the front door of the hospice. Truly, if Sasha had seen the Charms Master aquiver in righteous rage, he would have been in fear of his life.

"Mess with my wards, will you? Mock my goblin heritage? Try to drown me in a fish pond?" Flitwick growled. "This means war whoever you might be."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was ferociously fighting when she realized that she was face to face with Bellatrix LeStrange. The two witches Casted and Hexed, Charmed and Cursed like two hellcats.

_Hurt __**my**__ Severus, will you?_ A furious Minerva raged. With a violent double flick, a burst of staccato swishes and a round of Gaelic curses, Minerva managed to knock Bellatrix on her bum not to mention completely disarming her. The defeated Death Eater looked up at her nemesis and saw not Minerva McGonagall, but _**Mórrígan**_, Goddess of War, Revenge, Night, Magic and Prophecy.

"Where is he?" Minerva harshly demanded. She had her foot on Bellatrix's wand and she, _accidentally_, put a little too much weight on the weapon, causing it to snap in half. For good measure, she slowly ground the remains underneath her heel.

The ground was still exploding around them when munitions detonated underneath their feet. Minerva wasn't expecting that and she executed an awkward rolling tumble to the ground. She didn't knock herself out but the impact left her gasping for breath. A maddened Bellatrix cast one final spell.

"_Sectumsempra Bublet!"_

Minerva's Bubble Head Charm was slashed by magic. She couldn't breathe, the vapors burning her lungs. Uncontrollably coughing, the witch was unable to perform the nonverbal magic necessary to breath.

"We die together, bitch," Bellatrix whispered before her own Bubble Head Charm collapsed. "I willingly die rather than face my Lord having failed him…"

Someone grabbed the Minerva by her arm and with a sensation akin to having a hook pull her along by her navel, a barely conscious Minerva McGonagall left Prague.

* * *

"Poppy. It's Minerva, she inhaled whatever Arthur did," Albus explained after Abeforth and he arrived in the infirmary. The two Dumbledore brothers were carefully supporting an unconscious Minerva. "How's Arthur?"

"Sleeping," Poppy assured him. "Let's get Minerva to a bed. Horace is busy with a nebulizer treatment. I'll advise him that he'll need to increase it. Dobbie?"

The House Elf arrived, wearing socks and assorted tea cozies, meanwhile the Dumbledores were quietly disagreeing over the best way to put Minerva to bed. "Dobbie wishes to help?"

"Please tell Professor Slughorn that I have another patient and that I'll require more of his nebulizer treatment," the matron requested.

With a pop, the House Elf was gone.

"Just put her in the bed!" snapped Poppy. While normally Poppy was the calmest of souls, Albus Dumbledore had a tendency to turn her well managed infirmary into complete bedlam. "That one! Right next to Arthur. Now, you two can leave. I'll handle it."

"No, I'm staying with her," protested Albus. "I'm not going anywhere."

Clenching Minerva's right hand tightly in ihs, Albus sat down next to her bed. It seemed that the only way to remove a disturbed Albus from the ward would be by magical means. YES, and Poppy was sure a charmed trail of lemon drops would not work THIS time.

"Severus is supposedly at his mother's Hospice," Poppy explained. "Filius and Remus were here when Arthur arrived. Filius went to the Hospice but hasn't informed us of the situation there. Remus called the Order together and they'll want to know what's happening. In fact, I'd like to know what the hell is going on! Incendiary respiratory burns? Were they sipping Molotov cocktails, Albus?"

"Severus is at St. Barbara's Hospice?" When Poppy nodded her head, Albus continued, "Filius is there. He can handle the situation. My appearance would not be beneficial or wanted."

"What about the Order? They'll want information!"

"They can wait," protested Albus. "They'll want information about Arthur and Minerva which I do not have!"

A damp looking Filius then popped his head into the Floo for a Floo Call. "Poppy? Is Albus there?"

"Yes."

"Severus had long done a runner by the time I got in. Eileen's dying," Filius tersely explained. "They say she won't last the night."

The Order, Minerva and now Eileen. If he could only split himself into three Albuses!

"Go," Aberforth ordered his older brother. "Someone needs to be with Eileenwhen she passes. Severus can't be there because of the way you completely cocked up everything. Go. Take responsibilities for your actions, don't make Filius pick up the pieces! I'll talk to the Order; let them know some of what's happening. I'll sit with Minnie when I'm done."

"Minnie?" protested Albus.

"We've got a special relationship," explained Aberforth, unsuccessful in trying to pass off his comments as anything but brotherly brutality. "Being Godparents and all that, we've become quite close. Don't be jealous, Albus. I just have a knack with woman, which you completely lack. When everything's settled down, I'll put Mattie to bed early and give you some pointers. He's too young to risk him overhearing what I need to tell you about women."

"Minnie?" repeated an incredulous Albus. "She lets you call her that?"

"_**Eileen**_," his younger brother reminded him. "Don't bugger this up, boyo. Go! Move back, Flitwick, Albus is coming through if I have to toss him arse over tit through the Floo."

"Give me a moment to move away from the Floo," Filius loudly insisted. "First, I nearly drown tonight and now I'm being used as a bloody pin in the Dumbledore version of ten-pin bowling. I want a raise, Albus!"

"Quit your jawing, Flitwick. He's coming through," announced Aberforth. Deftly, with decades of experience dealing with unenthusiastically exiting patrons underneath his belt, Aberforth manhandled his brother out of his chair and into the Floo before Albus could voice a protest.

The rubbish removed... err… Albus sent on his way, Aberforth made a show of brushing off his hands before loudly cracking his knuckles.

"I'll tell off the Order and I'll be back in fifteen minutes. I'm assuming Molly will want to visit her husband?" Aberforth questioned. "Fawkes will no doubt be popping in momentarily to keep an eye on Minnie."

"Molly's outside, you can send her in," Poppy agreed.

"Excellent," Aberforth said.

* * *

Rodolphus LeStrange woke to a world of darkness. His hands were restrained behind him and there was a wand in his jugular.

"What's your name," a voice questioned him.

He wanted to definitely scream, "Sod off!" but instead, he dutifully gave his name.

"Drink this," another male voice ordered. There was a vial of something that tasted like horseradish placed against his lips.

Rodolphus instinctively spat it out. For his act of defiance, he was soundly Hexed until he was weeping.

"Drink it," ordered the voice. "We're truly sorry about your sensitive stomach, but it's really rather pointless. You will drink the Polyjuice potion."

They pinched his nose and poured the vile drink into his mouth. Having no choice, he swallowed.

"Must be the taste that's causing him to sick up," a third voice announced. "Your flavor is bit like wasabi."

"Do I really look like that?" The second voice requested. "I've let myself go."

"You've had a long tenure at the International Confederation of Wizard. It's aged you, I'm afraid. Now, here is what you're going to do, my blindfolded friend. You're completely under my control now. You answer only to the name Ishikawa Byakko. Byakko is your first name. Ishako is your surname. You're a widower and you do not have any close friends. You're to report to Nurmengard and kill Asen Peychinovich. Yes, we know that he's one of your fellow Death Eaters. You're to kill him," the first voice announced.

"Your port key is waiting for you," said the second voice. "Die with honor, like I would."

The first man roughly grabbed him by the arm and lifted him out of the chair. "I'll take out the rubbish."

The two mages waited until Toma left the room.

"He'll kill Asen and he'll be cut down by the guards," Byakko stated. "If he dies when he's under the affect of Polyjuice, he'll stay in my form. But the poison I administered should ensure that he'll be dead well within the hour."

"Yes, and they'll find your suicide note where you claim that you and Gellert were Imperio'd by him into giving false information to Dumbledore. You're such a strong mage, my brother, to fight off an Imperio," complimented Sasha.

"Voldemort will be furious. He'll move openly against Dumbledore as blood has been shed. They'll weaken themselves severely and then the Brotherhood can move in," Sasha grinned. "We'll get Gellert out of Nurmengard when everyone is occupied watching the bloodshed."

The two Dark Mages pondered happy thoughts about freeing their Lord and Master from Nurmengard.

"Now, on to other matters that require our attention. Am I correct in understanding that the lad's father harmed his mother? He pushed her down a flight of steps?" Byakko questioned. "And he still walks upon the Earth?""

"Yes and yes," Sasha admitted. "A fine example of Muggle justice."

"As Godfather, you should kill him. I'll help," Byakko decided. "He's in no condition to do it now. Handle the matter for him. It's the proper thing to do."

"Patricide is your answer to everything, isn't it?" Sasha fondly questioned.

"Yes," was Byakko's curt answer. He quirked a disapproving eyebrow when Sasha laughed.

"He's in New Mills. Shall we find him? I believe we can get the matter settled within the hour," Sasha decided. "I should be back here when his mother passes. He might need a sedative."

"Let's go hunting, Brother."

* * *

Filius Flitwick was sitting next to Eileen Prince and he was gently holding her hand. He gave it a comforting pat as he continued to talk softly to her.

"It's alright, Eileen. Go to the light. Don't be afraid, you're not alone. Albus and I are both here and we won't leave you."

Albus swallowed once and then he spoke.

"You were waiting for Severus, weren't you? You wanted to say goodbye before…" he paused and then swallowed once more. "But he came to see you. Such a good son. I know that you're tired, Eileen. Go rest."

The two mages sat together for several hours, telling Eileen stories about how remarkable and brave her son was and reassuring her that she wasn't alone at the end.

In time, her breathing slowed and then stopped.

"I'm grateful that Severus got here to see his mother before she died," a tearful Filius informed Albus. The two Hogwarts Instructors were standing outside the room while the staff did whatever they were required to do in such situations.

"Filius?" Albus questioned. "What happened? Why are you damp?"

"What about you? What happened to your hair? Your beard? Why do you smell of soot?"

* * *

Tobias Snape was in a dive bar in New Mills, bemoaning the fact that he had just lost his job at the mill when two strangers offered him a drink. They were peculiar, probably gay boys like his no good son, one was a slanty eyed queer and the other homo had a strange accent. But their money was good, so they drank until the bar closed and then the three of them decided to have a walk through Torrs Riverside Park.

Tobias was hoping that the slanty eyed queer had more liquor to share when he reached into his jacket, but instead the queer pulled out a long knife. With an easy grace, the homo put the knife into Tobias' chest and then pulled it out.

Snape looked at the bloody knife and then he stared in bewilderment at the hole in his chest that was gushing blood.

"Why? What have I done to you?"

"Eileen sends her regards," whispered the other man. "How do you like it, Tobias? To have the roles reversed? Where you don't possess the upper hand? I should throw you down a flight of steps but sadly, there aren't any nearby. Don't worry, I can arrange for something similar."

Then the two queers threw him over the guardrail and into the River Goyt. He was still futilely raging his protests at how unfair the world was when he drowned.

* * *

Horace Slughorn rubbed his aching temples. He had managed to whip up a nebulizer treatment to fix whatever was ailing that ginger haired fellow and now Poppy wanted still more from him!

"Assure Poppy that I will make more, but I need you to go to Slug and Jiggers immediately. Give them this note and have them charge it to Hogwarts. Tell them I know it's after-hours and they will charge me dearly. I need these potions ingredients tonight," ordered Slughorn.

Slughorn handed his list to the oddly dressed House Elf who bowed once and then disappeared.

"Fortunately, I possess enough of the Plectranthus esculentus tuber to handle even this crisis." He congratulated himself on his savvy stockpiling of the various esoteric potions supplies even as he placed a large tuber on his table. "Time to start grating."

It was when he put the rhizome on the table that he noticed how the tuber had been prepared. Hogwarts trained mages would not have left so much of the nodes intact.

"Jiggers must be having problems obtaining supplies locally. A Durmstrang Potion Master prepared this." Horace announced to himself.

He had just finished neatly grating the tuber when he remembered a long forgotten conversation he had with Barty Jigger.

_I have this marvelous mage on retainer, a Durmstrang trained Potion Master. He provides me with all sorts of esoteric items and the best part is… he's located in Manchester, so I don't have to deal with International Magical Supply Act. Their import fee would bankrupt me._

"Oh bloody hell," Horace whispered. "Severus…. Manchester…. Damyan Draganov… Durmstrang trained…? But how do I get the information on him? Jigger won't give it to me…He'll be afraid that I'll go directly to his wizard for my supplies. Cut out the middle mage."

He pondered the thought, remembered the recent inconvenience of having his cauldron examined. Who was that ginger haired fellow?

Mercy? Percy!

He had been very methodical. Truly, he deserved more in his life that weighing cauldrons. Someone that disciplined, that precise in such an inane position? He deserved a helping hand up the career ladder. Horace knew many a businessman that could use someone like Percy.

Perhaps, they could do an exchange… of names.

------------

A/N # 2- for Ellie, who didn't leave a contact email. (Don't you want to hear from me? I'm getting a complex from your reviews. :))

Wait did Byakko, great, unseen assassin just spend the better part of the night talking to his target in a buzy bar (glamoured? who knows) and kill him with a knife in such a way as to give him time to face his murder and maybe take a swing (okay, so Tobias didn't but he bloody well could have) while still in the bar and leave a slumped over corpse in the bar? For an honourable professional that smells of arrogance and sloppiness to me.

NotWIllingtoAdmit's Answer

Err WRONG! Tobias was killed by muggle means by Byakko and Damyan in parlour...err.. Torrs Riverside Park in New Mills. The boys had a couple quick drinks, then decided to go for a stroll. One knife wound to the chest and then he was thrown over the guardrail into the river, as they didn't have a flight of steps to throw him down (like he did to Eileen.) NO magic involved so if Albus decides to investigate (which he probably will as he's a nosey old codger), there will not the faintest whiff of magic involved. And it probably took all of thirty minutes. :)


	30. Chapter 30

A/N #1 Thanks to EP/MM. This chapter didn't behave at all.

A/N # 2 for Ellie, who didn't leave a contact email. (Don't you want to hear from me? I'm getting a complex from your reviews. :))

_Wait did Byakko, great, unseen assassin just spend the better part of the night talking to his target in a buzy bar (glamoured? who knows) and kill him with a knife in such a way as to give him time to face his murder and maybe take a swing (okay, so Tobias didn't but he bloody well could have) while still in the bar and leave a slumped over corpse in the bar? For an honourable professional that smells of arrogance and sloppiness to me._

NotWillingtoAdmit's Answer

Err WRONG! Tobias was killed using a candlestick by Byakko and Damyan in parlour...err.. Torrs Riverside Park in New Mills. The boys had a couple quick drinks and decided to go for a stroll. One knife wound to the chest and then he was thrown over the guardrail into the river, as they didn't have a flight of steps to throw him down (like he did to Eileen). NO magic involved so if Albus decides to investigate (which he probably will as he's a nosey old codger), there will not be the faintest whiff of magic involved. And it probably took all of thirty minutes. :)

Since it's been a while, a brief synopsis might be helpful: We left Eileen Prince dying, Tobias Snape dead. Problems at Gellert's prison, Minerva in the infirmary and a dead Bellatrix LeStrange.

* * *

Oxana put her hand on Severus' left hand. They were in the sitting room, and Severus was anxiously watching a flickering candle. Compulsively, obsessively, he rubbed his stomach with his free hand.

"Please, be soon," whispered Severus.

The door to the room opened and Sasha quietly entered. An unhappy Oxana noticed that his green eyes were bright and feral. From hard earned experience, the witch knew that a fey Sasha was a very bad thing. Byakko and he had disappeared for a short time earlier in the evening which was long enough for them to get into some serious trouble. Sasha sat next to Severus and the older mage deliberately put his arm around Severus to comfort him.

_What have you done?_ she thought.

The candle that represented Eileen continued to flicker and dance until at last, it was extinguished. The lad said not a word, instead he stared straight ahead, his free hand still on his belly.

"I want you to drink this," Sasha ordered. He held a small phial in his hand.

Severus ignored him as he was still staring straight ahead and Sasha uncapped the phial with a practiced flip from his thumb.

"Drink it," repeated Sasha. The wizard placed the small bottle against Severus' lips and the younger mage dutifully swallowed it. "Good. Now, let's get you to bed."

"She liked… flowers…" confessed a remote Severus. "I hope Minerva will ensure that she has some…"

"You can do better than that, we can pick some from our garden, Severus," Oxana offered. Deliberately, she ignored Sasha's unspoken, '_Are you daft, witch?' _"

"You need to rest, Severus," Sasha stated.

Severus nodded his head in weary agreement and Sasha helped him to bed. He was placed just so, and he was propped with pillows until he was comfortable. Sasha sat down in a chair and he removed his dragon hide boots. Carefully, he polished them until they shone. They had been a present from Gellert, and they were broken in and quite comfortable.

"He's asleep," Sasha assured the witch.

"You're wearing your dragonhide armor, Damyan." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. I think you should wear yours also. Before our goddaughter is born, I need to ensure that Severus is safe. Byakko and I took care of part of it tonight." He sat back in the chair and easily smiled.

_You only smile like that after you have killed someone, Damyan. _

"May I ask who it was?" she asked.

"His father," Sasha tersely admitted. "Severus won't have to worry about Tobias Snape ever again."

"His mother _**and**_ his father tonight? And Prague also. Busy, weren't we? Did you decide to maybe get rid of …" The witch stopped, leery of angering Damyan when he was experiencing a killing-induced euphoria, but damn it, she needed to know. While Damyan had Bonded her into acquiescence many decades ago, there was still a part of the witch that remained a Russian Auror still. She mitigated Damnyan's excesses as she much as she dared and now was such a time. "The explosives…. Please assure me that you _**didn't**_ blow up Hogwarts, did you?"

Damyan looked sincerely surprised at Oxana's question.

"Come now, even _**I**_ would think twice about killing four hundred children, Katya," the Bulgarian warlock chastised. "I do possess a conscience; I just don't listen to it very often. Severus would be well rid of many of them but he does have a few close acquaintances on the faculty. That Minerva woman, Slughorn who taught him potions and… that Goblin mage."

His easy smile disappeared.

"If I can avoid hurting them, I will. Yet the Greater Good is a harsh mistress, my dear," the Dark Wizard informed her. "I fear Minerva might have been injured in Prague, but she _**wasn't**_ supposed to be there and well… if the Goblin was just a smidgeon or three taller, he wouldn't haven't nearly drowned in the pond. Sloppy Charm Work, the wards should have bounced him someplace else. They had thought Albus would arrive at the hospice, not Flitwick so they assumed it was safe to drop him into the pond."

"Were the events in Prague part of making the world a safer place for Severus?" questioned Oxana. "Did the Greater Good demand it?"

"Yes." The Dark Wizard's simple agreement deeply disturbed the witch.

"Oh bloody, bloody hell," she whispered.

* * *

"What happened in Prague?" Filius asked Albus. The two wizards were in Albus' office and having bit of a tipple after finalizing Eileen Snape's funeral arrangements. Their plans were subject to a still sleeping Minerva McGonagall's veto, as Filius and Albus were prone to excess.

"I received information that Severus was to be there," Albus explained. "It seems to have been an ambush."

"What was the tip off? The exploding clock?" Filius growled. "My apologies, that comment was completely unwarranted. It's been a rather eventful few hours, Albus. Prague, Eileen, Minerva and Arthur in the infirmary, my near drowning."

"Remus is at the door," Albus announced. "Come in!"

The werewolf came into Dumbledore's office and apologized. "Albus, I know you didn't wish to be disturbed, but there are Bulgarian Aurors from Nurmengard …"

"Nurmengard?" Albus interrupted.

"Yes, Nurmengard, and they're on the front steps of Hogwarts. There was an incident in Nurmengard, and they wish to speak to you." Remus paused and then continued. "A Japanese mage went mad last night. He stormed into Nurmengard, screaming that he was Imperio'd by a Death Eater and he murdered one of Gellert's guards."

"A Japanese mage? By any chance, was it Ishikawa Byakko?" Albus questioned. He knew the answer, but still he had to ask.

"Ishikawa Byakko? Isn't he a special envoy or some such position with the International Confederation of Wizards?" Filius questioned.

"He _**was**_," Remus stressed. "He's quite dead now. After killing the guard who was supposedly a Death Eater and he then committed suicide by ritually disemboweling himself. I believe he died muttering something about shame, dishonor, death. There is a large contingency from the International Confederation of Wizards waiting for you also. Seems the death of this Byakko fellow has deeply shaken the ICW."

"I don't know any spell for disemboweling," Filius admitted, as he was first and foremost an academic. "Anyone catch what he said?"

"It was quite messy and several of the guards were too busy tossing their tea to catch the correct articulation. Speaking of messes, you may wish to hurry, as there's a group of Japanese mages who were queuing up. We're running out of space at the Gate."

"Why are they here?" questioned Filius.

"The Nurmengard prisoner is loudly proclaiming that he was Imperio'd and forced to write something to Albus regarding Prague. The Japanese investigators decided it was necessary to speak with Albus. Speaking of which, we've also Aurors from Bohemia demanding an audience regarding the destruction of a historical, astrological clock?" Remus appeared confused. "They're willing to wait until after you speak to the Japanese contingency."

"Let me talk to them," Albus announced. "Put them all in separate rooms and I'll speak to them one at a time. The Bulgarians first…"

"Well, the British Aurors may want that to be first," Remus inserted. "They're claiming rank."

"Remus John Lupin, I truly believe that you are enjoying this a bit too much," Albus announced. "Why are the British Aurors here?"

"They found the body of Tobias Snape in the River Goyt early this morning. He was stabbed once in the chest. With Eileen dying last night also, they want your input on whether or not Severus Snape is involved with their deaths," explained the werewolf.

"Very well, Bulgaria, England, ICW, Japanese and then Bohemia…" Albus said. "Is there any other nation that wishes to speak to me? Perhaps the Colonies? They've been remarkably quiet these past few months."

"Molly," Filius inserted. He ignored Albus' look of betrayal. "She was willing to wait until after we settled Eileen's arrangements, but she wants to know why Arthur was in Prague. Minerva is still unconscious; Aberforth is claiming that Minerva didn't inform him why he needed to be there, just to be there…"

Albus refrained from commenting on his belief that Aberforth had deliberately thrown him under the Hogwarts Express.

"Molly first," Albus decided. "Then Bulgaria…. Have them all in separate rooms and please ask the House Elves to serve them tea."

Alastor Moody lumbered into room. "Are we having tea and no one invited me?" he growled. "Well, put down your tea cozies, Rufus Scrimgeour is demanding Albus' ear. Actually he's demanding another part of Albus' anatomy but I won't use the term in front of Filius."

"Thank you Alastor, you are a true gentleman. Remus? May I talk to you?" Filius questioned. "It's rather important. Albus, may I use your office?"

Albus Dumbledore agreed and Filius motioned for Remus to take a seat.

"I'll check Tobias' body to see what I can determine," the Charms Master informed Albus.

* * *

"Remus, I need to speak to you on a matter of utmost confidence." The Charms Master sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Please sit down."

The werewolf sat down and Filius held out his hand.

"What I tell you must not go any further than us," Filius requested. "Promise me?"

Remus stared at Filius and shook his head.

"If it affects my family, Filius, they need to know," insisted Remus.

"I can trust you, but I can't put any faith in Sirius Black," retorted the Charms Master. "Yes, he's your friend, but he's likely to go off, wand on the ready."

Debating the truth of Filius' words, Remus Lupin extended his hand. "I agree, though I'm not happy."

The Charms Master tapped their hands with his wand and nodded once. The Avowal spell tightened on Remus' skin for a brief moment and then dissipated.

"I don't know if it affects your family, Remus, but I fear it directly concerns _**you**_ and Sirius Black because of your relationship… or lack of one… with Severus Snape," the Charms Master explained. "I don't have enough information to know if Dora and your baby will be targeted."

"What can you tell me?" a concerned Remus demanded.

"Severus was injured because of his loyalty to the Order. There is a great many issues that Albus and Severus needed to work out, but Albus royally buggered the situation. Severus feared that with his injuries, Albus would not be in need of his assistance," Filius explained. "Without Albus' backing, Severus' parole would be annulled and he'd be reprimanded back to Azkaban."

"Albus wouldn't just throw him out on the street," Remus protested.

"The Death Eaters tortured him, and put that idea into his head," Filius explained. "Understand that this is all conjecture, but the pieces are falling into place. Faced with the strong possibility of being returned to Azkaban, Severus fled. His injuries were substantial as you well know, and he was in need of continuing medical assistance."

Filius sighed, and then rubbed his temples.

"I have reason to suspect that Severus has found someone to assist him and that he's being sheltered by a wizard who holds no love for Albus Dumbledore…"

"Malfoy?" Lupin inserted.

"No. I believe that somehow Severus has managed to locate one of Gellert's Brotherhood."

"So, Severus is being assisted by a geriatric, outlawed wizard," Remus quipped.

"Albus Dumbledore is over one hundred years old and I am his senior in age. I can still knock you on your arse, boy," Filius growled. "That geriatric wizard has been successfully hiding for fifty years, Remus."

The werewolf nodded his head in agreement.

"This wizard seems to have taken a personal interest in Severus. An examination of recent events confirms my suspicions. I think he might be wooing Severus to join forces. Snape does have a great deal of information on the current magical situation on both sides. The Dark Wizard seems to be not only sheltering Severus from all those are looking for him, but is actively involved in removing some of Severus' troubles."

"Troubles?" Remus asked.

"Eileen Snape was being magically sustained by the St. Barbara's Healers. The wizard took Severus in to see his mother and then deliberately broke the Charms supporting her life support."

"He killed Severus' mother?" questioned Remus.

"Severus' mother was in a comatose state for last decade or so. Some might view what occurred as a mercy for her to finally pass on, especially if you were her son. I went there to investigate Severus' arrival there… and…"

Filius Flitwick paused and turned cherry red.

"The wizard had put up wards and I landed in the goldfish pond. I think that he meant to have enough time to get Severus out of the hospice, not attempt to drown me. The fact that Severus' father was murdered last night? Not a coincidence especially combined with the events in Prague. That Japanese mage claiming to be Imperio'd? Remus, Severus is not particularly fond of either Albus or He Who Must Not Be Named, so if his Protector set them up to meet in Prague… combined with the explosion… "

Remus' quick mind led him down the same mental path.

"They'll each believe that the other side ambushed them. It will leave to an all out Magical War," Remuse stated. "If this mage continues his strike and run tactics, we could get decimated."

"Easy pickings for a new World Order. By helping Severus, the Mage strengthens his own position," explained Filius.

A chilling thought which led to even dark thoughts.

"You believe that the Mage will come after me," Remus calmly stated.

"Yes. You have made several attempts at murdering Severus. Yes, you weren't in your right mind when it happened, Remus, but I'd be very careful if I was you."

"And if he decides to come after me, Sirius would also be on the list of Who Must Be Gotten Rid Of."

"I believe that he'll go after you first and then Sirius. That way Sirius can be saved for extra attention." Filius stated. "Sirius is the one that set up that meeting in the Shrieking Shack. Severus has never forgotten that and how Albus handled the situation. If I was trying to woo Severus, I'd make Sirius Black's death a truly memorable experience."

* * *

Horace Slughorn deliberately went through his list of contacts at the Ministry, determined to find the correct position to tempt young Percy Weasley into giving him the information. He was methodical, thorough and seeming lacking in anything resembling joie de vivre.

_**Department of International Magical Cooperation!**_ That was a joyless occupation if Horace ever knew one. All the protocols, the needs for translations, the stuffiness of the French! It would be nirvana for Weasley!

Eileen Snape's funeral was tentatively scheduled for two days hence and it had a prominent place on his calendar. Several of his Slytherins had already asked for permission to attend and as House Head, he had agreed.

He sent off two owls, one to Anwell Maddock, the new Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, gently and diplomatically reminding him of past favors owed and then another one to Percy Weasley. It would be a very busy few days ahead for Horace and sustenance was required.

* * *

A somber Remus Lupin escorted Filius Flitwick to the morgue where Tobias Snape's body was held. The diminutive Charms Master flashed a piece of paper at the attendant which earned him a, "You lot, _**again**_? Very well he's in drawer A-5. Come along."

"Psychic paper," Filius explained to Remus. "Useful Charm as he sees what he wants to see."

"You coming? Or planning on chinwagging?" The morgue attendant groused.

"Come along," Filius ordered. "Do you have a stool for me?"

* * *

"Single stab wound, two inches below the nipple line," Filius explained. "It severed the intercostal artery. He was still alive when he was thrown in the river. There was no use of magic at all. Completely a run of the mill Muggle murder, which is odd. Now, would you mind opening his eyes?"

Remus gestured and Tobias' eyes opened.

"Oculus permaneo os!" Filius demanded.

_A faint image of an Oriental man. Tobias' contempt for the man was obvious. Yes, the Oriental man had bought him liquor but he was like his son, he was a good for nothing mattress muncher. The freshly shorn, green eyed man next to the Oriental was his missus. Tobias despised men who thought they were women. A feeling of incredulous shock when he felt the knife go into this chest. The Caucasian male said something. Tobias was in such a state of disbelief, to be murdered by a bunch of gayboys to catch exactly what was said. Then he was being thrown into the water and he couldn't swim. _

_He couldn't swim… _

"What a hateful man," whispered Remus.

"Imagine him as your father. Explains a great deal, doesn't it," Filius noted. "Let's focus on the Oriental fellow. I don't recognize the Caucasian, though the green eyes are a hint. What a coincidence, an Oriental seeming Muggle, a Imperio'd Japanese mage. It doesn't look like the same man."

"Glamour?"

"Strong possibility," agreed Filius. "I'm not detecting any magic used in Tobias' death, but it doesn't mean that Muggles truly did it. Let me find out if anyone's claimed the body yet. If there isn't a next of kin, I will handle the burial arrangements."

"You're a good man, Filius," was Remus' heartfelt response.

"No. If I was a good man, I would have prevented Severus from fleeing," Filius protested. "Minerva was the only one that went head to head with Albus over the situation and look what happened."

* * *

"Minerva, m'dear," Horace pleaded with his intractable patient. "Breathe this in. It will help your lungs."

Minerva hissed and then coughed. Horace, being more intelligent (Slytherin) than foolhardy (Gryffindor) refrained from commenting that she sounded like nothing more than a cat coughing up a exceeding large hairball.

His largesse earned him a mighty glare. In the other private ward, he could hear Molly Weasley exerting Arthur to also take his medication. Arthur was healing quicker than Minerva due to his age.

"You've got inhalation burns and this will help with the pulmonary edema you're experiencing," Horace cheerfully assured her. "Now, let me make this bed a little larger so we can chat."

With an easy flick and swish, he turned her infirmary bed into a large, comfortable bed with scarlet and gold duvets. The witch sank into the comfy featherbed and there were even matching pillows to match the duvet. Horace fluffed her pillows and again put the mask on her face. He sat next to her on the bed and he placed his arm around her.

"Inhale, m'dear," Horace ordered.

Minerva wiggled and Horace whispered in her ear.

"I need to talk to you about you know who," he said it quietly, hoping that she knew which You Know Who he was talking about. "There's a Durmstrang trained Potions Master who is supplying ingredients to Slug & Jiggers. His shop is in _**Manchester**_ and it is a Ministry approved location."

Minerva squeezed his wand hand so tightly he feared that she bruised it.

"I might know someone who can get me the information on him," Horace explained.

"Don't… confront… him…. by… yourself," gasped the witch. While she wasn't at top form, she still had a commanding presence.

"M'dear, you're confusing _me_ with _**you**_. I'm not that brave," the Potions Master protested.

"You … are… don't… sell… yourself… short…" rasped Minerva.

"You and I… we'll find our little lost boy and bring him home. Protect him from Albus," Slughorn promised.

She nodded once. Feeling rather Gryffindorish brave, Slughorn pecked her on her cheek. His gallantry earned him a blush from the lioness and his heart felt unexpectedly light.

"Take your medicine, m'dear."

* * *

"Well, yes, I understand that Dumbledore will probably have made all the arrangements for your mother's funeral…" the Russian witch began.

"Including large displays of purple flowers," sniped Severus. The two mages were walking in Sasha's Secret Magical Garden that didn't exist here or there but yet it did. "There will be a plethora of purple, an orgy of orchid, a helping of heliotrope and a proverbial ton of Tyrian purple. My mother's casket will be draped in purple plentitude."

"We can do a tussie-mussie," Oxana explained. "It's a small, hand held bouquet. We can just Translocate it into the casket. They'll never be able to Trace it back here."

Seveurs pinched his nose, wondering why Oxana cared so much about his mother.

"Do you have a preference? What flowers did your mother like?"

"My mother didn't like much," was his instinctive retort.

The witch thankfully just nodded her head, rather than issuing some sort of generic, all encompassing platitude.

"Calla Lilies? I have several types in the garden. One is a lovely white flower with the faintest tinge of lavender. Just in case you desire to go along with Dumbledore's motif."

There. On her face. It was just the faintest smirk, much like Minerva would have worn.

"Sasha believes this is madness," Severus offered in the hopes of an escape. Well, perhaps the Mad Mage thought it was insanity. He had grumbled, growled and made an ugly face when Oxana had first mentioned the idea.

"Sasha doesn't like examining grief too closely. Heartache has a tendency of completely unmanning him," was the witch's retort. "He did suggest adding a few pink roses to balance the lilies."

"Pink," Severus repeated. "Do I look like a _**pink**_ person?"

"In the language of roses, it means sympathy," Oxana explained. "I have a shocking hot pink calla lily. It will horribly clash with the putrid purpleness. We can put it into the casket after they close it. I can use Grisha for line of sight and Translocate it in."

He was wavering and weakening. Eileen was his mother, for better and for worse. He _**would**_ have scrounged the money up to ensure there were flowers for her interment.

"She did like pink flowers," was his weak admission.

"Let's pick them," the witch decided. "I have dragonhide gloves and a silver knife so they won't pull any auras off the flowers."

* * *

"Thank you, Percival, for agreeing to meet with me," Horace Slughorn smoothly stated. "Is this the first time you've eaten here?"

The ginger-haired lad agreed as Horace expected. The Green Man Inne was rather exclusive and the cost for one meal was easily greater than Mercy… Percy's… weekly take home salary.

"I hope you don't mind that I asked Anwell Maddock, the new Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation to join us? He's running a few minutes late. Poor soul, he's in dire need of someone to keep his office organized and his calendar running smoothly."

"I have to confess that I'm quite surprised that you invited me for lunch," Weasley informed Horace Slughorn.

"I'm getting slightly mad in my dotage. Do humor me, Percy and enjoy your meal. I was rather impressed by your thorough inspection of my cauldrons. Your predecessor was rather lax, and there was that unfortunate incident in Kilkenny." Horace shook his head in disapproval, and then poured the wine.

"I shouldn't drink as I have to return to work," Percy demurred.

"Don't worry; I've spoken to your supervisor. You're a hard worker and he's agreed to let you take the rest of the afternoon off with pay. He's an old student of mine and I've helped him during his career."

Horace rumbled a belly laugh and patted his walrus mustache dry with his napkin.

"He's quite nervous that I've taken an interest in you."

Percy flushed.

_Not interested in your lovely bones, m'boy. I'm interested in what is in your head._

"People I've taken an interest in usually have outstanding careers in the Ministry. I know you're thinking Horace Slughorn is a hopeless reprobate, but I'm not. You see, when I was your age, my family was destitute. Barely had two sickles to our names. Someone took an interest in me, saw my potential and assisted me. So, I pay it forward," explained Horace.

Weasley still looked unconvinced but Horace understood that now was a time to sow a few kind words and then liberally water with patience.

"As I explained, Anwell is a good fellow, but gets distracted easily. He needs someone to keep his feet firmly attached to the ground. Someone who is methodical, no matter how tedious the responsibility is. Ah! There he is."

Perhaps by finding Severus, Horace Slughon could finally make amends for not taking more of an interest in the lad when he was a student.

* * *

"How many are dead?" Voldemort demanded. "Why are you the only one that returned? Where is Bellatrix?"

Lucius Malfoy was unable to answer due to the severity of his coughing fit.

"Lung damage," Rose, the dark Healer, tersely informed her Master. "He has burns on the lining of his lungs."

"Trap," the blonde Malfoy wheezed. "Explosions… Trap… Albus…. Order was there… Bella… dead… Minerva… Minerva killed her…"

He began coughing even harder and the witch shook her head.

"I need to fix his lungs and do it now. If I don't, he'll be dead within the hour."

Voldemort nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Heal him and be quick about it. I need more information. Lucius? Would you say that this was an ambush?"

That question earned a quick head nod of agreement.

"Albus has decided it's now time to move openly against us. He's declared _**war**_," Voldemort muttered. "He wouldn't do that unless he was absolutely sure he had the upper hand."

* * *

The trio of Horace, Anwell and Percy didn't even get to afters before Anwell had sized up Percy Weasley and decided that he quite liked what he saw. The job offer was tendered while Horace was savoring Lemon Sorbet with fresh mint in order to clear his palate. Anwell did have a fetish for ginger-haired boys but he was truly in need of someone to organize him. Yet, Anwell was acting quite fast for Anwell.

The two of them haggled like a fish monger and a parsimonious Scottish widow, how much was Percy to be paid, what was included and when would he start? Some might be alarmed that an up to now underappreciated Percy Weasley was quibbling overt his wages, but Horace was delighted. It was verbal foreplay and Anwell adored mouthy, gingered haired lads.

When Weasley remembered to thank Horace for the opportunity, Horace would be ready for him. A sad story about wanting to bring the Durmstrang Potions Master to Hogwarts to demonstrate some of the training differences between Potions Masters of the different schools and how Bartemus Slug and Wilbur Jiggers wouldn't help for fear of eliminating the middle mage.

It was a win-win situation, and Horace, whatever his many faults, did like helping out his friends.

"I don't know how to thank you," Percy informed him. Horace pretended not to notice that Anwell's hand was on Percy's upper thigh.

"Nothing m'boy. Just helping out… though… I'm wondering….if you might able to assist me in tracking down a Durmstrange mage located in Manchester? I've been trying to locate him so I can have a presentation to the seventh years about the differences in curriculum between our various schools. Beauxbaton is no problem; I even have connections with the Salem Institute. Slug and Jiggers won't give me his name, as they're afraid I'll go to him directly for supplies."

* * *

Fawkes the Phoenix had shamelessly browbeaten his mage into visiting Minerva. It was rather droll, how the mage universally declared the most powerful in the known world, was badgered, cudgeled and yes… nagged… by a large flying feather duster of the most ostentatious colors. Albus was exhausted, what with the exploding clock and having meetings with Aurors of eighteen different nations. Yet he knew that Fawkes would allow him no rest until he saw Minerva.

Meanwhile, the Yanks had just arrived, all brash and boldness, demanding an overview of the current situation and Albus had come this close to telling the entire lot to sod off. Instead, he had requested that Remus deal with them. Thank Merlin for the werewolf, as he was filling the various roles of the missing or incapacitated Order Members. After the International Conglomerate of Aurors was sent on their merry way, he was to contact the Order members for a mandatory meeting.

"My apologies, I must see how Minerva and Arthur are doing," he had told Richard, the lead American Auror.

"Is this _**war**_? Do you believe that You Know Who has declared open _**War**_?" Richard demanded.

Trust the Yanks, all fire and no manners, to have the bollocks to come out and ask the question that everyone else hadn't dared ask.

"We're not sure exactly what the current situation is," Remus inserted. "But panicking is not conducive…"

"We're not panicking! You _**lot**_ have disturbed the status quo!" That outburst was from Pierre the French Magische Liga van Defensie' lead liaison.

Yes, the blessed status quo which was Latin for 'The mess we're in'."

He shouldn't begrude the Frogs their attitude as the Liga van Defensie' psyche had never truly recovered from the Dieppe Raid of 1942. Three Dark Wizards had managed to breach their defenses and destroy the entire bloody lot. Though considering one of the Dark Wizards had been Damyan the Beserker, should he be credited as more than one mage? The Liga had been proud, perhaps too overconfident over their alleged magical prowess, so to have their collective asses handed to them on a silver platter had been a shattering experience.

"Remus, please," Albus requested.

He fled from the Inquisition and returned to Minerva' private ward. She was propped into a sitting position thanks to a dozen or so pillows that he had conjured for her. Sitting up made it easier for her damaged lungs to do what they were supposed to do, but perhaps he had been a bit too excessive in his pillow making. Some of the troops had been in to see Minerva as someone had changed her ward bed into a rather luxurious featherbed… in Gryffindor colors no less.

She was still sleeping and carefully, he took her left hand into his.

"Why were you in Prague? I'd _**never**_ forgive myself if anything happened to you."

Albus was still holding her hand when a puffing Horace and a grim Filius barged into her ward.

* * *

Horace Slughorn was a mage of considerable bulk yes, but also a wizard of substantial Magical talent. Potions was his first mistress, but he was a Masters in Charms, Transfiguration and the various other disciplines of the magical trade. He was even a rather superb duelist as he had miraculously discovered when an unexpected husband had arrived home in mid-assignation. To Horace's credit, the witch had never bothered to inform him that she was married when she had suggested a dalliance. Since then, Horace's personal policy had demanded that he ascertain his partner's romantic status in triplicate before savoring their delights.

Aleksandar Zoravkov had a small chemist shop called Serendipity located on New York Street in Manchester. According to Percy Weasley, Zoravkov had a partner, a Russian witch, no doubt one of Gellert's followers… and… and he had a grand-nephew. An alleged Drumstrang trained Potions Master who was getting back on his feet after a bad accident.

The second Durstrang Potions Master had his left arm in a sling so he wasn't actively brewing.

Yes, _**left**_ arm.

The soon to be retired and leaving Manchester apothecary was most likely a mass murdering, deranged Dark Wizard and he _**wasn't**_ alone. There was the witch, no doubt a suitable counterpart to Draganov and there was Severus. Allegedly powerless due to his condition, but he was _**supposed**_ to be missing his left arm.

Yet he had a left arm, in a sling. Was it just a glamour? Or had Severus somehow managed…

No, Horace dare not mentally voice his hope. It was just impossible, there was no way… Poppy had said that the damage that couldn't be repaired.

Someone was required to investigate the state of affairs.

A bed-bound Minerva was in no condition. Albus couldn't handle the situation as he was too heavy-handed. Diplomacy, tact, and a strong preservation for one's self were the skills required for a successful extraction of Severus. With a quick Glamour and a quiet Disapparation, Horace found himself in the midst of Chinatown on the corner of Nicholas and Faulkner. The Imperial Gate was just over there, which meant that New York Street was ahead two blocks.

Slughorn wiped his brow. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't a bloody Gryffindor; he didn't tilt windmills for in his spare time for fun and exercise! Yet, Severus was a member of his House, one of his students that he failed because Horace had cavalierly dismissed him as not having sufficient potential to be 'interesting'. Ruddy, bloody fool. It was his responsibility that Severus had originally turned to He Who Scared Horace Very Very Much. Used by the dark side, misused and abused by the right, perhaps Severus had decided that it was time for the entire bloody lot to sod off?

Could Horace blame Severus' less than charitable attitude? Hell no!

If Horace was a fearsome Dark Wizard determined to hide in plain sight, he'd have sufficient wards so he'd know whenever a magic talent got too close. How far were his wards protruding from his shop? How sensitive where they? His uncertainties grew and grew until it took all of Horace's shaky courage to put one foot slowly in front of the other.

Horace could see the shop. Bloody hell. He stopped for a moment, and debated the wisdom of going into the dragon's den.

No. Best to wait for a bit, to see what happens. He wiped his brow once more and decided to take a seat and get some weight off his tired feet.

It was fortunate that he had decided to sit in that specific spot, as he was rewarded with two individuals walking out of the shop. One was a witch; tall, lean, athletic if you liked that type, though sadly Horace was partial to munificent and abundant curves. She was escorting a young man, dark, curly hair and his left arm was held in awkward position over his belly. It seemed that it was locked into a position of function as he appeared unable to move it.

Yet it was how the young man walked that captured Horace's undivided attention. In his right hand, he was using a cane to assist him in walking.

He was most assuredly _**waddling**_.

It _**wasn't**_ Severus' face, but the man's carriage… Could it be? The inelegance of his gait spoke of a man comfortable with long strides reduced to short, mincing… waddling… steps. His back was paining him as his shoulders weren't quite as pulled back as they had been. No, they were rounded.

Bloody, bloody hell. Could it?

Was it?

The lad said something to the witch. There was a familiar twist to his lips as though he had just said something particularly snide and was feeling quite chuffed about it.

It was! It _WAS_ Severus! The two of them paused for a moment, and the witch shook her head. The door to the shop opened and out came another man. He had grey hair cut quite short, and while Horace wasn't close enough to take a peek at the man's eyes, he'd bet that they were green.

It was time to get out of here, as Horace was in dire need of reinforcements. Minerva was out of commission, so he'd report to Filius. He didn't pay any attention to the floppy eared, one eyed dog that was keeping him under close observation.

The dog didn't mind Horace's inattention, as he was comfortable being ignored, except by members of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Those benevolent Muggles kept attempting to ensnare him. Toma Filipov wouldn't mind a nice vacation; his current task was to guard his brother. He wasn't a true precog, not by a long shot, but he had a bit of the Talent. Recently, he had been having dreams of warring dragons, phoenixes and serpents. It would have been counterproductive to warn Damnyan, as his few attempts at warning the subjects of his dreams has caused the situations to ricochet into uncharted depths.

He had informed Snezhana of his dreams, and she had assigned a coven of personnel to be prepared. The Brotherhood having been patient for far too long, had decided now was a perfect time to break Gellert out of prison. If St. Albus and Snake Face were at each other's throats, why…so much the better for their plan.

* * *

"The children are misbehaving," Damyan growled while he waved his arms in a vain effort to scare the kitties. Both Grisha and Nadya were busy twisting themselves around his ankles and chirping.

"Mage nearby," Oxana tersely explained to Severus. "Powerful one, judging by the fuzzies' reaction and it is not someone we know."

The Dark Wizard tripped when Nadya, deciding that she put enough effort into notifying her clueless master, collapsed into a boneless sprawl under his foot, necessitating him to gymnastically gyrate to avoid her. Ignoring her sputtering mage, she daintily began to lick one front paw.

"Whoever it was, he's gone now. Might have been a mage looking for one of the Chinese warlocks in Chinatown. They're a dodgy bunch," stated Damyan. "Best thing is to stay away from them."

The incongruity of a Dark Wizard calling another coven of Wizards dodgy was rather amusing to Severus. If it wasn't the cauldron calling the kettle black… He saw that Oxana was attempting to smother her smile.

"You lot! Don't be _**sarky**_! They are dodgy!"

"Of course they are dodgy," cooed the witch.

"They use oregano in their love potions! Oregano!" sputtered Damyan.

"Well, mint would be more conducive in a love potion as it would cause one's breath to be freshened," snarked Severus.

Damyan made a rude comment in some Slavic tongue which Severus didn't quite catch but Oxana did. The Bulgarian ignored her head shaking by concentrating on putting the "SHOP CLOSED – BE BACK AT TWO" on the door.

"Come on, we need to get you fed," Mother Oxana informed Severus. "You didn't eat enough breakfast and you must eat. There's this fantastic Thai place on George Street. When we get back, we can start packing up what we want to take."

He wasn't hungry. Hadn't been this morning when they had tried to tempt him with assorted delicacies for breakfast, but somehow Severus knew that they weren't going to let him skimp on another meal.

And yes, they were leaving Manchester in the near future. They were relocating to a sunny Caribbean island which was apparently a very happening Dark Wizard Vacation Resort. Severus didn't mind leaving Manchester. It wasn't home to him, as Hogwarts had once been. Yet the idea of his child being raised by the Brotherhood?

She deserved better, but yet Oxana and Damyan would love her and raise her, free from Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps it wasn't right, that he was taking her away from her father, but Albus Dumbledore hadn't proven that he was appreciative enough for the miracle known as Ari.

* * *

Minerva woke when Horace and Filius invaded her sick room. Albus had quickly dropped her hand when the two wizards had arrived; not wanting to risk even the hint of scandal. Horace was beaming, and Minerva, not realizing that Albus was sitting in the room, blurted out, "You found Severus!"

Albus made himself exceedingly still, so he could hear _**everything**_. Best not bring himself to anyone's attention as he didn't want to risk being tossed from the room.

"Yes. He's Glamoured, but I believe it's him." Horace admitted.

A still groggy Minerva continued to press for more information.

"I had a bit of a shufti. I fear that I'm turning Gryffindorish m'dear, and at my age too! He's with two mages, a Durmstrang Potion Master and a Russian witch," Horace explained. "The wizard has a small chemist shop called Serendipity. It's located on New York Street in Manchester."

"Draganov?" Minerva questioned. "Is the mage helping him, Damyan Draganov?"

"Draganov is dead," inserted a disbelieving Albus. Three pairs of eyes stared at him. The gooseberry colored eyes were uncertain, the blue eyes were narrowed in concern and the green eyes were looking more than a tad bit displeased to discover _**him**_ in her room.

Albus wished that he had kept his mouth shut but it was now time for him to exit, stage left.

"We'll get him back," he announced. "Horace, you and Filius will report to me after you're done with Minerva. Don't even thinking of scarpering away. I wish to discover why you hypothesize that he's with Draganov. Don't you fret, Minerva, Severus will be back in Hogwarts shortly."

"But what if he doesn't want to come back," protested Minerva. "He doesn't particularly like you at the moment."

"He promised… he'd come back. He hasn't…that mage… that witch… might be holding him against his will… Severus needs medical care. _**Proper**_ medical care, a Healer, not a Durmstrang Potions Master," protested Albus. "Filius, come with me. Horace, when you're done answering Minerva's questions, come to my quarters. We have much to discuss."

The Charms Master shook his head in disbelief and mouthed, 'I'll do what I can' to Minerva.

The two wizards exited, and Minerva sat up in the bed.

"Help me get dressed, Horace," she ordered. Well, Minerva attempted a commanding tone, instead, she sounded winded. "I need to get to Manchester. If I can talk to Severus, perhaps I can either warn him or have him come willingly."

"What if they're holding him against his will?" questioned Horace. "What if this is a trap?"

"You said, he's Glamoured. Can I see what he looks like? I have a very bad feeling, Horace."

Carefully, he pulled the wisp of the memory from his mind and gently placed his wand against Minerva's temple.

"Take it," he whispered. "We have to save our boy."

Minerva's eyes widened and then she pulled away.

"Bugger it! Bugger! Bugger! _**Bugger**_!"

She physically collapsed back into her bed and put her hands over her eyes. It took some time for Minerva to regain her composure and then she explained her outburst to a concerned Slughorn.

"That was _**him.**_ In Manchester. At The Alamgiri Gate! Severus bloody smirked at me when he recognized us! The Russian witch is not just a witch; she's a ruddy, bloody renegade Russian Auror. Her name is Oxana Kameneva and I've met her. In Slug and Jiggers. She wanted purple vallmo, not the red, white or yellow."

"Purple vallmo is used in Drumstrang pain relief potions," Horace the professional stated.

Minerva cut him off in mid-sentence. "Yes, I know! Draganov will need three times the amount of scarlet Papaver somniferum to equate the request amount of purple Vallmo. He'll need to rarefy the mixture down. Boil it for two hours over a blue flame. It must be a blue flame. If it's not, it won't be concentrated enough. The mixture will be a rather distinct shade of lemon. Who cares about what color his bloody poppies are?"

"No, Minerva. It's important! purple vallmo is a very potent analgesic, normally used by _**amputees**_. We don't use it here because of the high risk of addiction but other countries use it. Part of the reason why we can't re-grow limbs is because of the nerve regeneration. It's extremely painful as each synapsis has to bud and grow. It's agony, absolute agony. _Mages Medizinische Monatszeitschrift _recently had an in depth article about budding of limbs. No one in Britian has successfully regenerated a limb…"

"Severus has a left arm," they both said at the same time. Horace's tone was delighted as he knew how much Potions meant to Severus. Minerva's voice was considering because He Who Deserved to be Cut up in Tiny Little Bits and Used as Fertilizer had taken away Severus' pride and limb while she and Albus had merrily destroyed Severus' shaky emotional equilibrium.

An arm. What would Severus do for an arm? Add to that, Damyan wasn't just a bloody Potions Master, he was a full-fled Healer. **_The child_**. Severus had obsessed over his death… what if Damyan had promised medical assistance? What if Severus could live and keep his child hidden and safe from Albus and from He Who Had Done This?

"Horace, you better report to Albus," Minerva suggested. She kept her voice weak, so she sounded exhausted.

"I'll have Poppy come in, give you a Calming Draft," Horace announced.

"You're so sexy when you're being commanding," offered Minerva. As she expected, a proper Horace blushed and fled from the room, giving her enough time to Transfigure her clothes into something presentable.

"He's not being held, Horace. Severus is with them, _**willingly**_," she said. "I must talk with him. Warn him that Albus is coming for him."

She had one option available to her. A Port Key. The Ministry would be furious, but let Albus deal with the ramifications. Minerva was quite finished with being the bailer of the leaky boat Dumbledore. He was a hundred and seventy eight years old; Minerva wasn't his mother so it was time for him to be responsible for once.

The Port Key found her landing neatly on the doorstep of Serendipty. A small, blue gray cat hissed at her and Minerva glared back. The cat's reaction was most likely instinctive; most cats didn't care for Minerva as they saw her as both cat-like and most assuredly non-cat.

She entered into the shop. There were three people in the shop and there was a bag of take away containers sitting on the counter.

"We're _**closed**_," Damyan announced. His hand was resting on a small, ivory dragon. "Read the sign. We're open at two."

Minerva ignored Damyan. He was only a Dark Wizard, after all. Severus was her friend and she would show no fear. She turned toward Severus who was behind Oxana. The Russian witch's eyes were cold and considering.

"Severus… Albus has discovered that you're here… You… your friends… you need to leave…"

Minerva's lungs protested and she began to cough. She couldn't catch her breath but she reached for Severus.

"Run… Run, you _**damn**_ fool."

Her coughing continued and she felt Draganov next to her. He was putting one hand over her mouth and pinching off her nose with his other hand.

_I can't catch my breath_, she mentally screamed. _I can't bloody breathe! You're going to kill me!_

Her wand! Where was her wand! She needed to defend herself, yet she couldn't speak... couldn't concentrate enough to nonverbalize a spell. _  
_


	31. Chapter 31

A/N – This chapter is dedicated with much love and affection to the one and only Guardian's Song (_**guardians**__-__**song**__DOT__**livejournal**__DOTcom)_

_Thanks to EP, L and MM for suggestions.  
_

We left Minerva, near physical collapse, in Damyan's shop. In spite of her precarious health, Minerva had decided that she needed to find Severus before Albus did.

* * *

Damyan had pinched Minerva's nose shut and he was covering her mouth with his other hand.

"Oxana, blue vial. Adrik, start a nebulizer with three pinches of the red powder located on the third shelf…" Damyan rattled a list of assorted ingredients while Adrik… SEVERUS… quickly put together her treatment. The Russian witch slipped the opened vial under Damayn's hand covering Minerva's mouth.

"Inhale," he ordered.

While Severus rummaged for necessary supplies, the Dark Wizard leaned over and softly whispered in her ear, "I give you my oath, Miss McGonagall, that I have nothing but Severus' welfare at heart. You were not supposed to be in Prague. If Prague had gone as planned, I would have gotten rid of both his Purple Putridness and Snake Face. That would have been the best for Severus and the child. Do not deny it. I do not wish to kill you only because the lad is fond of you. Behave, don't do anything stupid, and you'll live. Do not anger me, as you will not survive my wrath."

She refused to inhale the pungent aroma, because Minerva was a Scottish Warrior through and through. She'd die on _**her**_ terms, asphyxiation, not through _**poisoning**_. She knew damn well that Tobias and Eileen Snape were both dead due to Draganov's involvement.

"Go ahead, be difficult," growled the Dark Wizard. He stepped on her foot _**hard**_, causing her to cry out in pain. "Wouldn't have needed to do that if you weren't so bloody intractable. You and the lad must be jolly fun at parties."

Minerva coughed her protest regarding her character assassination, and the Dark Wizard continued to snark about her obstinate nature Meanwhile, bits and pieces of stray furniture and equipment were popping out of existence as they made their way from Manchester to wherever. And Minerva would be damned before she admitted it to anyone, but the tightness in her chest was easing.

"You two probably have a lot to catch up on, so I'll let you. First, let me remind you of the ground rules. Miss McGonagall, you stepped into my wards, so you _**can't**_ Disapparate away. Try to run and you'll collapse within a few feet. Your lungs are still a might crisp from Prague," the Bulgarian informed her. "If you try to Port Key out, you'll fall over quite utterly dead upon your arrival."

"What happened in Prague?" Severus intensely questioned as he handed the nebulizer to Minerva. "Inhale, Minerva."

"The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Wizards, gang aft agley," Damyan dryly quipped. "Bard of Ayrshire … in honor of our Scottish warrior witch. Oh, I should introduce myself. I'm Aleksandar Zoravkov, Potions Master, and I believe you're already met the lovely though slightly cheeky Oxana Kameneva in Slug & Jiggers."

"Charmed," Minerva growled, sounding completely uncharmed and unimpressed.

"Ditto," chimed in Oxana.

"I take it that you're her Bulgarian Potion Masters," Minerva quipped.

"_**Aleksandar**_," Severus growled. "What happened in Prague? I _**demand**_ that you tell me. How was Minerva hurt? Who hurt her? Oxana and Minerva have already met? When? Why wasn't I informed?"

"Oxana, our boy is becoming quite the fierce eagle," chortled the Bulgarian. "Makes me quite proud to see how far he's come from the sad sack puking in our alleyway. Demanding answers from me as though he believes that he can intimidate me. Put a little more backbone into your tone, lad, I might actually feel a quiver of fear."

"Prague? Aleksandar?" Severus reminded the wizard. "Minerva? You've met Oxana before?"

Minerva noticed that Severus seemed… uncertain… regarding Damyan. A brief look of unease that quickly vanished as though Severus was deliberately closing his eyes to what his benefactor was capable of doing.

_He knows what Draganov is. What he's capable of doing. Severus has decided that Draganov is the lesser of three evils, but he's still not completely comfortable with his choice. He's grasping at straws to save their lives._

_Does he know about Tobias? He knows about Eileen. I'm sure of it. Do you know that Tobias was most likely murdered by Damyan? I have no proof, but it's too much of a coincidence. _

"Nevertheless, I need to start our escape, Adrik, so I can't really explain Prague right now. You know that I would do _**nothing**_ to harm you or my goddaughter. In fact, I have done everything to shield you. Continue to have faith in me, my brother. Everything will be explained in due time." The Bulgarian gave Severus a winning smile that seemed to ease Severus' doubts.

_**Goddaughter? **_Aberforth and Damyan Draganov as the wee child's godfathers? She was to share_** THAT **_relationship with Draganov? And _**Brother**_? He was calling Severus his Brother? Severus hadn't been taken up the garden path and been tricked into joining Gellert's Bloody Brotherhood?

A soft chime sounded and Damyan shook his head. "As much as I enjoyed chatting with you, Miss McGonagall, I have to finalize some arrangements. Please add a pinch of rue to the nebulizer. Should ease her breathing. Miss McGonagall should be able to cup her own hand now."

An Oriental mage stepped into the shop and Damyan made a quick motion.

"She promises to behave," Draganov barked. "Put your wand away."

While Minerva had done no such think, discretion was the better part of Gryffindor valor.

"She's Dumbledore's most trusted Lieutenant," remarked the newest addition to the steadily increasing party of assorted Dark Mages and their friends. Truly, the shop was becoming quite the happening spot what with Severus, Minerva, Damyan, Oxana and their latest arrival. "Elimination would be an appropriate way to handle this situation."

Severus murmured a protest and Oxana shook her head once.

"Don't," the Russian witch mouthed at Severus. "Let Damyan handle him. He's _**dangerous**_."

Again, a brief flicker of his eyes. Minerva knew Severus well, and he was quite anxious about _**her**_ safety. Not his… but _**hers**_…

"You're not one of us, yet," the Oriental mage tersely reminded Severus. "Brother, you pick up entirely too many strays for a mage that is supposed to be in _**hiding**_."

"The lad is fond of her. Killing her would just verify that we are no better than Snake Face and Blessed St. Albus of the Purple, Bespangled Robes. We are _**better**_ than them, Brother. Remember our sacred vow? We _**shall**_ show mercy, we shall_** not**_ ask for it." Damyan said that in ringing tones and the Japanese Mage nodded once in agreement.

"Right now, Severus is convincing her how well we've taken care of him and how it is both their best interest to stay with _**me**_. Aren't you, Brother?" Damyan asked Severus.

"Yes, I am," Severus quickly answered.

* * *

Albus was talking with Filius Flitwick when he was overwhelmed by… emotion …. Yes… it was Minerva… an overjoyed Minerva….Severus? She was with Severus? Yes… a _**euphoric Minerva **_was with Severus, yet there was the slightest hint of alarm. _**Both**_ of them were troubled.

Why was he sensing _**them**_? Yes, Albus had Bonded an unawares Severus when he had been in danger of dying. Their wispy Bond-induced affinity had never strengthened to the point where Albus was able to sense Severus' emotions. As for Minerva, Albus had stirred up powerful memories of their relationship, but he had never been guilty of being particularly empathic.

"Where's Minerva?" Albus interrupted Filius' explanation on how he had searched for Severus. "Fawkes? Check the infirmary, make sure she's there."

The Phoenix popped out and Albus had to hold onto the edge of the desk in order to keep upright. He couldn't catch his breath, and then… without warning, the tightness in his chest eased. His heart was still pounding as though it wanted to explode from his chest and run a Muggle Marathon.

"She's _**gone**_. She's with Severus and Damyan has them both. What was she _**thinking**_?" Albus protested.

"Fawkes isn't back yet. Don't go searching for bad news," Filius protested. "You're not even sure she's left her bed."

_She's not there. I detected the use of a portkey. _Fawkes announced upon his return.

"I know, she's with Severus," Albus announced. "The Order should be here. I need to develop a plan to extricate them."

* * *

The Japanese Mage had a quick conversation with Damyan Draganov in lightning fast German. It wasn't a language that Minerva had ever bothered to learn but whatever their discussion was, it was over quickly. The Mage bowed once and then Disapparated away.

"We probably have fifteen minutes before the angelic hosts proclaim St. Albus' arrival. Should be enough time to vacate the neighborhood," Draganov said. He took one vial from beneath the counter and broke it against the table. "Everyone should be experiencing the unexpected urge to get the hell away from here."

"You really are getting soft, Dami. Evacuating the neighborhood," Oxana commented. "What will your friends say?"

"I don't want anything to happen to Prissy. She always traded me Khliab Raiska Ptitsa in exchange for her rheumatoid tincture," protested Damyan.

Minerva didn't give one single damn about Bulgarian Baked Goods, so she turned her full attention back on Severus. She grabbed his _**left hand **_with her free hand, joyfully marveling that he was able to squeeze her hand with his _**left**_ hand. Severus seemed healthy and… _**happy**_?

"Minerva, you're in a lot of trouble. You need to get away from me. I'm fine…we're _**both**_ fine." The stranger who was Severus quickly touched his belly for added emphasis. "He's quite skilled… I'm very lucky to have found him. I'd be dead by now if it wasn't for him."

"How… did… you?"

"I did a Blind Jump. Sheer, stupid recklessness… but I needed someplace where we could be safe from the Headmaster… from the Dark Lord…I ended up in Manchester… in his alleyway. Don't anger Damyan, Minerva. A lot of his choices seem to be based on whimsy and nothing more. He's rather capricious."

"You make it sound like a bad thing, but yes, not pissing me off is a good idea for continual survival," barked Damyan. He placed a cord with a small moke bag around Severus' neck. "Hide that, and don't let anyone take it from you. It's your copy of your treatment. We get separated, or something happens to me, Naum will handle your care."

Damyan squeezed Severus' shoulder and spoke in a conspiratorially tone.

"Naum's a smart boy. He's also rather attractive… stable…well established. An added bonus is that he's as bent as a pewter cauldron. He's _**single**_. Likes children also. Perhaps… there could be a spark between you two. I've been told that he's quite the dancer…You two will have to figure out who leads. Never sure about that."

Severus shook his head in disagreement. Damyan retorted that he should seriously think about Naum but only after the baby was born and he was feeling up to romantic adventures.

"You run a dating service in your spare time?" Minerva quipped.

"If you _**were**_ his friend, you'd know that he deserves someone who can treat him like he deserves," inserted Damyan. "He's a remarkable wizard, quite talented. Not a bloody whipping boy. Naum is a bit of a tease, yes, but he gets that from his grandfather. Toma flirts with everyone…"

Oh bloody hell, Damyan was acting… _**paternal**_…towards Severus. Paternal and protective, caring and … _**compassionate**_ but yet seasoned with a great deal of asperity. If Severus was a prisoner, he was most likely an agreeable prisoner as Damyan had fostered a protective, nurturing relationship. Minerva wouldn't claim Severus was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, but she was willing to bet her last galleon that Severus had found… peace… working for Damyan. It was the peace of the wand, yes, but still… peace. Hadn't Severus suffered enough? Was it the right thing to take him away from here?

"Toma never flirted with me," quipped Oxana.

"Probably terrified of you." Severus then drolly added, "And rightfully so. Right now, I'm simply not interested."

"Severus deserves some happiness." Damyan continued, ignoring Severus' protestations that he wasn't interested in dating now or in the foreseeable future. "Naum will treat you very well, Severus. You deserve someone who knows what a treasure you are."

"I… am… in…complete… agreement," growled Minerva, deliberately stressing that she, _**also**_, cared for Severus. Damyan was a strong personality; she didn't want him to persuade Severus that only he could be trusted.

"Then you should realize that his best interest is to stay with me," Damyan informed her. "He'll never heal if he's forced to deal with daily reminders of the traumas he's endured. He needs a clean break. A pretty boy to cheer him when he's feeling a touch melancholy would be exactly what his personal Healer ordered. That's _**me**_, in case you're confused."

"I want to hear it… from _**him**_…" Minerva retorted. "Severus?"

"I want better," Severus stated that firmly. "Do I deserve a pretty boy to cheer me when I'm melancholy? Of that, I'm still not quite certain."

"How about an old witch like me?" Minerva softly questioned.

"I don't see you as old," was Severus' quick answer. "But to have someone… someone that isn't ashamed of being with me…"

"I was _**never**_ ashamed," protested Minerva. "You don't truly believe that I am embarrassed of our relationship?"

"It is of no importance, Minerva. She'll be ashamed also." He put his hand on his belly. "Fortunately, I'm familiar with the sting. It doesn't hurt me as badly as it once did."

* * *

As Albus expected, the Order Meeting was rather raucous after both Horace Slughorn and Filius Flitwick explained the current situation, recent events in Prague, Arthur's injuries and other minutiae. Disparaging comments were cast regarding Severus even while some older Order members attempted to keep their focus on important issues. Was Draganov a supporter of He Who Must Not Be Named? How was the best way to get Minerva McGonagall out of current predicament?

"Well…well… well… our boy Severus seems to make a habit of falling in with bad crowds. One of Gellert's followers?" Alastor Moody barked.

"I hope that they have a jolly honeymoon," Sirius Black dryly commented. "I won't miss the black bat."

Albus knew that he should defend Severus but he needed to fortify himself. His heart was still racing along and he was unable to easily take a deep breath. His clothing was what he had worn to Prague so many hours previously and his singed hair and beard were still short. Hadn't even possessed enough time to get into a proper set of clothes and his hair and beard… well… perhaps they _**were**_ easier to manage when they were a sensible length. He was almost one hundred and twenty years old… far too old to fight yet another dark wizard… to deal with a meter long beard… yet Albus couldn't leave Severus and Minerva in their current situation.

Damn it, Draganov! He was _**dead**_.

Supposedly dead. And there was a witch with the Bulgarian Berserker. Who the bloody hell was it? Sofia Filipova? Snezhana Ignatieva? One of Voldemort's followers? Could Damyan just be a completely random chess piece?

What were the odds of that?

"Well, I see you haven't learned anything," Aberforth growled to his brother. "Albus? Are you still not willing to admit to your devotees how you bollocked everything? How you caused Severus to flee? Well, I'm heading to Manchester and _**I'll **_rescue Severus. I'll save Minnie also. Crazy Dark Wizard or no Crazy Dark Wizard, I'll rescue them both."

"Did he just say 'Minnie'?" Dora Lupin inserted. "As in Minnie _**McGonagall**_?"

"You can't seriously blame Albus for Severus doing a bunk," protested Sirius. "Snivellus…"

"Do _**not**_ call him that," Albus commanded. His conscience prodded him hard when he noticed that flabbergasted looks on various Order Members' faces. "You will not use that term _**again**_, Sirius. Yes, my brother is quite correct. The situation with Severus is entirely my fault. I mishandled the situation and Severus is not to be blamed. The blame falls squarely on my shoulders."

"He found one of Gellert's followers, Albus. How innocent do you believe him to be?" Alastor Moody roared. The grizzled Auror dared anyone to verbally disagree with him and Hestia Jones nodded her head in agreement. "Do you expect us to believe that he just turned the corner and there was one of Gellert's followers strolling down the street?"

"Alastor, I do not know _**how**_ Damyan Draganov found Severus. What I do know is that Severus believed that he held no value to the Order after the loss of his arm and the weakening of his magic. I did not properly reassure him of his worth to our cause; I failed to comfort him with his personal importance to me. Severus wholeheartedly believed that I was angry with him because of his supposed failures. Mistakenly, he thought it best to remove himself from my sight… to give me time so my temper might cool. As I said, I don't know how he found Draganov, and I will not venture a guess until after I have spoken to Severus. I _**will**_ listen to what he says and ponder deeply on many things before I voice my opinion. At this moment, all I know that I must I get Minerva and Severus away from Draganov," announced Albus. "I don't expect any help from the Order. This mess is of my making."

"You're not going by _**yourself**_," Aberforth announced. "You're finally acting your age and I'm no longer quite as ashamed of you as I once was."

Albus quirked a sad grin at his brother. "Perhaps it's not too late for even _**me**_ to learn something?"

"Wouldn't go that far," Aberforth remarked. "You've got a thick head and a God Complex. Plus an ego larger than Hogwarts."

"Albus… you failed to comfort him with his personal importance to you? What an odd thing to say," Dora interrupted the bonding moment between the two Dumbledore brothers.

Her pregnant belly was a physical reminder of his failures, the way Remus held her hand in his a physical blow to Albus' heart. He couldn't tell them the truth. It wasn't because Albus Dumbledore feared to reveal his feet of clay to the Order Members. Severus might believe otherwise but Albus had never been ashamed of their intimacy. Albus' only regrets? That he had taken emotional and physical advantage of the infatuated younger man, who foolishly believed himself in _**love**_ with Albus.

No, Albus kept his silence. He had promised Severus that Severus alone would make the decision of when and where to announce his condition. Albus had broken it once to inform his brother of the upcoming blessed event and he would not do so again.

"He believed that I viewed him as merely my instrument. That once my tool was broken, it held no value to me," admitted Albus. "Severus needed to be reminded of my unwavering faith in him. I was not as patient with him as I should have been. Voldemort's followers used my physical appearance to torture Severus, and he was justly apprehensive… of me. The fragile situation demanded a delicate approach."

Albus shook his head and refused to continue.

"I failed him. I sent him off to that monster's den…"

"We know the risks, Albus," Kingsley Shacklebolt protested. "That's why we willingly do it. I'll stand by you in Manchester, Albus. I may not particularly like Severus and his bleak dressing style. However you believe in him, Albus…"

"Completely and utterly," stated Albus.

"I'll be there in Manchester," Shacklebolt said.

"I'm coming with you," inserted Filius. "If Draganov goes mental and starts foaming at the mouth, you'll need a ready wand."

"Thank you, Filius," whispered Albus.

"Not for you, for _**Severus**_," retorted Filius. "For Minerva also."

"I'll be coming along," inserted a very unlikely voice.

Horace Slughorn pretended to ignore the looks of surprise from the various Order members. He remembered their disbelief _**later**_ when they required use of his potions skills. Instead, he folded his arms and attempted to look quite the formidable warrior. The affect was ruined by the brightly gleaming gold buttons of his emerald green waistcoat.

"I've scouted the enemy territory after all," he announced. "You don't know what you're walking into. I've seen Draganov's shop. Seen his female comrade. I didn't recognize her, but you might."

"If he has one witch, there might another. You might be dealing with a troika," Filius reminded Albus. "Gellert's Army normally had a base unit of three. Two mages for offense, one mage for defense and shielding. Gellert's modus operandi with Draganov was to set him lose and have his other two mages shield him. Sofia Filipova and Rada Dafovska were his troika. Both were exceedingly talented witches, and while they're supposedly dead, the report of Draganov's death was greatly exaggerated."

"While we're planning for worse case scenarios, he might have the backing of a coven, that being four troikas and an Overseer. Gellert had that Japanese warlock that oversaw the destruction of most of Eastern Europe and Asia. No one was able to confirm his identity or his death…for all you know, he could be alive," Alastor lectured. "You'll also need to Box Draganov, Albus. Last thing you want is an unBoxed Berserker."

Left unsaid was that Alastor Moody was planning on showing up to the tea party in Manchester. Albus was rather blinkered when it came to Severus Snape, Moody always believed. But either way, if Albus was right or wrong regarding Snape, Albus might be need of assistance and Alastor Moody was never one to shirk from a battle from a Dark Mage.

"I can get the Box," Kingsley Shacklebolt offered. "It is in storage as we hadn't had to deal with a Beserker in a dog's age. If we can get Draganov into the Box, his magic will just be redirected unto himself."

"A Japanese man was involved with the death of Tobias Snape," Remus softly reminded Filus. "He stabbed Severus' father. I'll go to Manchester with you, Albus. You might need more wandpower as it seems there are at least two more mages involved."

"Remus, I must turn down your generous offer," explained Albus. "I'm sorry, but you, of all people, can not be part of rescuing Severus."

"It would be quite upsetting to our dear boy," Sirius drolly remarked. "To have Remus save his arse from the fire."

"Besides your difficult relationship with Severus, you will need to stay here and keep an eye on Sirius," Albus continued as though Sirius hadn't spoken. "He is not allowed to leave Hogwarts. You will ensure that he stays _**here**_. I can't have him there because I lack the time to teach him proper manners. It seems that rolling up the Prophet and smacking him on his nose has failed to Housetrain him."

"Oi!" protested Sirius Black, while Remus nodded his head in weary agreement.

"I understand, Albus. I'll keep an eye on Sirius," the werewolf promised.

"Very well, what Order members that wish to go to Manchester may go, but only if you agree to follow my commands. Severus is innocent and will be treated as such," Albus announced. "Under _**no**_ condition is Severus to be hurt. I hope that he will willingly come with us."

"While we're hoping for impossibilities, I hope Draganov serves us bikkies," Moody growled. "I'm famished."

* * *

"Dumbledore's up to something," Pierre the lead liaison from the French Magische Liga van Defensie informed Rufus Scrimgeour. A dozen different nation's Top Aurors or their equivalents were sitting in Rufus' magically enlarged office. Their current occupation was loudly browbeating Scrimgeour's inability to control one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. "He must be up to something. The incident in Prague, that suicide at the prison… He must be involved somehow as he didn't seem particularly surprised we were on his doorstep demanding answers."

"Traditionally," Rufus began to explain.

"Oh, save us from the British and their traditions," sniped Richard, the head Yank. "If it was up to you lot, we'd be doing all our magic skyclad."

Serge, from the Russian Consortium, shuddered, and made a rather risqué comment about it being far too cold in parts of Siberia for such rubbish.

"As I was saying," Rufus continued, regally ignoring Serbian Serge's frostbitten privates while desperately wishing the Yanks would just go far, far away. "Traditionally, Albus Dumbledore has not been fettered by the Ministry."

"Well, yes, because God forbid you have spank the mage that defeated Gellert," added someone.

"I read in the Quibbler that Gellert actually tripped and that's why Dumbledore won," Serge stated.

"You read the Quibbler?" Rufus was stunned that someone admitted to read that dross.

"Perfecting my English," the Russian explained in his heavy accent. "I need to work on my reading comprehension, as that periodical makes no sense!"

Auror John Dawlish then entered the room. He was Scrimgeour's spy in the Auror Department. Rufus, having been raised to the Minister's position from the Auror Department, knew full well that his most likely successor, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was breeding insurrection in the department. Shacklebolt was one of Dumbledore's lapdogs and Albus would like nothing more than to get someone malleable into the Minister's position.

"What is it?" Rufus demanded.

"Shacklebolt has gotten the Box out of storage, Minister," Dawlish quickly explained.

"You have a Box out? This is interesting, Serge, Rufus has a Berserker on his hands," Richard drawled. "Well, I'm bored and looking for some action. I'd invite Rufus to join us, but Rufus will need to handle Albus. Perhaps if he asks really nicely, Albus will explain to him what he's doing. Shall we go help the Brits Box their Berserker? I mean, they're having problems controlling Albus Dumbledore and he's only one hundred and ninety seven years old. A Berserker will be completely beyond their ability to handle."

"Wonderful idea," Pierre agreed. "Where is it?"

"Manchester," Dawlish squealed.

"We'll need better directions," protested Hitomi, the Japanese lead.

"Just follow the rampant destruction," Richard dryly informed her. "The one foaming at the mouth is probably the one they want to Box."

The confederation of Foreign Aurors, intent on not missing any of the fun, left in mass, leaving only a confused John Dawlish staring at Rufus Scrimgeour.

"Please tell me that we're sending our people to this?" Scrimgeour not too gently ordered. Gawain Robards was loyal, but not the fastest wand flicker and swisher. Neither was John Dawlish, which is why Rufus trusted him enough to spy for him.

"I'll suggest it to Gawain," John answered.

"Hurry!" Rufus roared. "This is Great Britain. Our Aurors should be handling this, not a bunch of foreigners!"

* * *

"John Dawlish informed me that something unusual is occurring in Manchester," Lucius Malfoy informed Voldemort. "Shacklebolt is involved which probably means Albus. They're getting the Box out."

"Box, what do I care about Boxing Berserkers?" Voldemort questioned. Bellatrix's death had left him strangely pensive and out of sorts. One of his droller followers had declared Voldemort to be in a funk and the wit had been required to feed Nagini. Nagini had found the comic a tad bit on the dry side also, but she was happily sleeping off her latest meal.

"One of Gellert's lieutenants was a bit of a foamer," explained Lucius. "With Gellert's name coming up in conversation a great deal lately, I thought it quite the coincidence that they are Boxing someone. The foamer was a Healer, a rather accomplished Healer. Quite the genius, able to cure almost anything short of death. Albus is involved and the Auror department isn't."

"Severus? You think Severus might have found this Healer?" Voldemort asked. "It would explain why Dumbledore is involving himself. Perhaps I underestimated Grindelwald. Perhaps his hand still stretches from his cell."

Malfoy was far too smart to agree with his Lord's declaration. He didn't wish to be afters for Nagini.

"Very well. Let us go to Manchester," decided Voldemort.

* * *

Minerva held Severus' hand in hers and she squeezed it.

"You _**deserve**_ to be happy. You are _**worthy**_ of loving someone that is good to you and who is good _**FOR**_ you. If it's a pretty boy with a glib tongue that can give you the happiness that you deserve, then so be it. But I want you to talk to me," Minerva insisted to Severus. "Tell me you're fine. Tell me, as I need to hear it from you, not from Draganov. All I'm hearing is _**him**_. What _**he**_ thinks is best for you. What _**he**_ believes will heal you. What do _**you**_ say, Severus?"

"I'm _**fine**_, as well as can be expected," Severus assured her. "We both are."

He took her hand and placed it on his belly. Something moved under her hand and Severus nodded his head once.

"That's…_**her**_?" she whispered.

"Ari's _**quickened**_." His smile was awkward as though happiness was an emotion foreign to him. Perhaps it was, or far more likely he was unaccustomed to sharing his joy with a trusted other. "I should be dead by now, but…Ariana's _**quickened**_. I feel her _**move**_…"

"Ariana?" Minerva repeated. "You named her for…"

"For his sister… yes… I thought… he might look more favorably on her…if she had his sister's name. I won't be there to take the brunt of his dislike. I won't be able to shelter her from his whimsicalities and idiosyncrasies. When she asks why her father doesn't care for her, unlike other children's fathers, you'll explain to her that it's my fault. _**Never**_ hers. Promise me that you'll reassure her that the Headmaster's anger is with me… never her. You might be required to constantly reassure her…but you _**will**_… won't you?" Severus' voice was quite soft.

"Where are you planning on being during all this?" Minerva tartly questioned. "Are you running off to a tropical island with your Dark Wizard Lothario? I didn't think you'd be one to shirk your parental responsibilities for a jolly roll in the sand."

"I'll be dead, Minerva." His death sentence was pronounced with such finality that Minerva had to grab him for physical support. "She's draining me of my magic. When she's devoured that, the spell will ensure that she utilizes my physical reserves for her survival. After what happened, my physical reserves are lacking. If that doesn't kill me, in a few weeks, my aorta will tear from her weight as her umbilical vein has hooked itself there. It's really a rather ingenious spell. Does everything it can to ensure the baby's survival, the incubator, on the hand, isn't really very important after she's viable."

Again, the awkward smile.

"It's getting quite close to the time where she'll be able to live without me," explained Severus. "The longer I can house her before I die, the healthier she'll be. I bought the green dress for her first Christmas, Minerva. I even bought her matching slippers and a hair ribbon. You'll make sure she wears it, won't you? That way… it will be like I'm there?"

"I keep telling you that you're _**not**_ dying," growled Damyan. "I am an _**accomplished**_ Healer. I regrew your arm. You should regain a great deal of mobility if you continue to exercise it. If I can regrow an arm, I can certainly get you to term."

"My conversation is with Severus," Minerva reminded the Bulgarian in her most formidable tone. "If I have questions for you, I will ask you, Mr. Draganov. Until then, I'm still waiting for Severus to convince me what his best interest is. Your continual interruptions are not promoting your cause, Mr. Draganov."

The Bulgarian growled and Oxana merrily laughed.

"We need to sever your connection to the Heartstone. It would be best if you sat down for this, Severus. It shouldn't be a problem for you to continue your conversation with Ms. McGonagall," Damyan remarked. "Sit."

* * *

"I've gotten reports that the British Aurors and many of the International Aurors are descending on Manchester. It seems that Albus is planning on Boxing Damyan and they've decided to help," stated Snezhana Ignatieva.

As the Defacto leader of The Brotherhood, she had kept the Brotherhood hidden all these long years, but perhaps too well, as that upstart believed him _**worthy**_ of being Gellert's successor.

"Byakko, you take the four troikas with you. Toma is already there, keeping an eye on Damyan's shop. With his predictions, it seems likely that Snake Face will arrive to oversee the carnage. You will lead our strongest witches and wizards into battle, Byakko. Put our sigil up, and let them all know that we are _**still**_ here. It will pull everyone to your location, so while everyone is distracted, we will break Gellert out of prison."

There was a sharp intake of breath from one of the younger Brotherhood members who was unaware of her plans. He was young, far too young to have met Gellert, but he was still faithful.

"Our goals are this. While everyone is descending unto Manchester, I will lead a strike force to Nurmengard. We will _**free**_ our Master," Snezhana vowed. "Byakko, you and your coven will kill the upstart. That is your paramount goal in this sortie. Incapacitating Dumbledore is a close second."

"No doubt that Living Horcrux will be there," Byakko inserted. "He's a dark haired boy, glasses with a lightning shaped scar on his forehead. He's instrumental in destroying the upstart. We're to extricate Damyan and his strays if at all possible, but he knows what our primary goal is. His stray did reveal the importance of the Living Horcrux to Damyan while he was raving from fever."

The Brotherhood nodded in agreement.

"We've been in hiding for far too long, my Brothers and Sisters. Let today be the dawning of a New Age," Snezhana declared.

She pumped her fist and stated clearly, "We _are_ Loyal! We remained True! _**Gellert**_!"

"Gellert!" was the answering cry from the dozens of wizards and witches. They continued to call out their Lord's name, delighted that it was now time to restore the Rightful Order.

"Gellert! Gellert! _**GELLERT**_!"

"Die well," was Snezhana's benediction to her troops.

* * *

Minerva had never before witnessed Heartstone magic as most sophisticated British mages dismissed it as mere chicanery. The very idea of using granite as a magical storage device went against everything Minerva believed. Yet, if she looked at Severus in a way that made her eyes water, she could almost see the wispy bonds connecting Severus to the Heartstone. Her eyes were watering, that could be the reason why she saw translucent connections binding Severus and her.

Not because they were Bonded… but because her eyes were watering. Troika bondings and Heartstones belong in the same library section as Astrology – under H for hoaxes. The section was kitty-corner to the section reserved for improbabilities such as male pregnancies and Albus Dumbledore wearing sensible clothing and having a practical haircut, her conscience snarkily reminded her.

"I thought this was already done," Severus questioned.

"Most of the bonds were broken, but not all," explained Oxana. "Now, take a deep breath, and hold it. Let me know if you feel dizzy or odd. We're doing this faster than we normally do so."

Damyan severed the first link and Minerva _**felt**_ Severus physically weaken. He turned a sickly shade and leaned back in the chair. The babe… it kicked Severus hard in its fear even while the Bulgarian began to discharge his magical essence into Severus. It was rather… instinctive… what Draganov was doing, and Minerva found herself assisting, pouring part of herself into the child.

_Easy, Ariana,_ whispered Minerva. She mentally hummed a soft lullaby to the child, attempting to soothe her. _Shoo Shuggy over the glen, Daddys wee pet and mummy we hen. Everything's fine, you just go back to sleep._

Felt the slightest mental presence, a flicker really… a sense of sleepy contentment as Ari was reassured by Minerva… heard Severus' muffled heartbeat… understood firsthand how his back was a bit dodgy these days…. felt the child move within _**her**_… was overwhelmed by an overpowering, desperate love for the child… that was Severus… yet it was her… what boundaries were Severus and what were hers… were fluid…there was a contaminant weakening Severus… and in turn it was weakening Minerva… and then the tie was broken.

"Severus, your color has improved. How do you feel?" Oxana questioned.

"Better," a chalky Severus whispered. "Felt odd there for a moment."

"Minerva?" was Oxana's next query.

"Fine," Minerva lied, unable to express her deep sense of loss at the breaking of her connection to Severus and Ariana.

"Good. I need three bars of chocolate, Minerva. Second drawer on the left. Damyan, your color is dreadful and you look as though you're about to sick up. Quickly! I need that chocolate!" the Russian witched ordered. "What did you do, Damyan?"

"Damn Heartstone cracked. There was a slight flaw in the damn stone and it bloody _**cracked**_ when I severed the first link. Nearly lost both of them just now but I managed to staunch the flow. Had some help," growled Damyan. "Miss McGonagall, I felt you jump in there to strengthen the baby when I was busy with Severus. Nice bit of work. Should have been a Healer."

Minerva acknowledged his praise with a curt nod.

"Is she alright?" Severus questioned. Minerva found the chocolate and hurried back to group.

"She's fine. She was just scared when you nearly blacked out. Fortunately, Ms. McGonagall eased her back into a deep sleep, so she won't be kicking your kidneys. I'll check you both over after I have some chocolate."

"Check her _**now**_," commanded Severus.

"I'm barely able to stand upright, Severus. Got to give me a minute to recover as I don't want to go stumbling in and disturb her when she's sleeping. Had to do some quick verbalization improvisation and back it up with a great deal of power just now. I am ninety three years old, Severus. Sixty years ago, this wouldn't have winded me, but I need a moment… or three," the older wizard protested.

"Sit," barked Oxana. "You're having two bars of chocolate before you do anything else. Nadya is in quite the state."

Damyan meekly agreed, which seemed to disturb Severus. Minerva broke the chocolate bars apart and distributed them per Oxana's instructions. For her own health, Oxana snuck a piece of chocolate. She stood next to Damyan, determined to give him a few moments or more to recuperate.

"Eat," Minerva ordered as Severus hadn't touched his chocolate. She pulled him away from Damyan. "He needs a minute or three to recover. I know you're anxious about Ariana… because I'm worried about Ariana…but give him a minute."

Regretfully, Severus nodded once. He ate the chocolate carefully and Minerva was happy to see that his color improved.

"Lick your fingers," Minerva crisply ordered. "You left some chocolate on them. No back talk, Ariana needs the chocolate, too."

Severus did so, and then Minerva softly questioned her friend. "Do you _**trust**_ him?"

* * *

"I promise you that I won't even think of going anywhere near Manchester," Sirius Black assured Remus Lupin. He flashed a winning smile at a skeptical Remus Lupin. "Albus requested that I not go, and therefore I won't."

"Swear it to me, Padfoot," Remus ordered.

"I swear it, Moony, on the bonds of the two of us being the remaining Marauders." Sirius assured his fellow Marauder. "I just don't know what Albus is thinking. How can he trust Snivellus? He's found a new best friend with that crazy mage that supported Gellert. It's time for Albus to wake up and realize that some people can't be saved."

Sirius Black looked at Dora Lupin who seemed to have wilted. Her pink hair had faded to a mousy brown and she was rubbing her back.

"Get your poor pregnant wife to bed," he gently ordered. "I'll behave."

"More frightening words I have never heard," retorted Remus. "I'll put her to bed and I'll find you."

Sirius watched as Dora waddled away, followed by her overanxious husband. Truly, he loved both of them but Remus was a bit overprotective. Bit of a priss sometimes, insisting on following the rules, but a promise was a promise.

"I'll talk to Harry," Sirius Black decided. "It's been a while since we had a good Godfather to Godson talk. Hopefully, he won't ask about sex again. I'm still trying to figure that bit out."

And while Sirius had truly meant to follow Albus' instructions, he did let it slip to Harry about the Order heading to Manchester. Harry, being the typical impetuous teen, was quite put out that he hadn't been invited. He and Ron decided it necessary to travel to Manchester, as they were both legal age and would have been full Order members if it wasn't for Ron's overprotective mother. Hermione, realizing that the two natural disasters should not be allowed to walk the Earth unfettered, determined that she needed to go to Manchester also. Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood decided that it wasn't right for them to miss the fun, so they decided to join the party.

That left Sirius Black by himself.

After a few minutes of debating the issue, Black realized that he was in a great deal of trouble. If Albus didn't want HIM to go to Manchester, he rather doubted that Harry would be welcomed with open arms. And his responsibility as Godfather overshadowed his promises to Albus and Remus, so therefore Sirius Black decided that it was best if he quickly arrived in Manchester. He had no idea where the hell they were, but figured he find them enough.

No doubt something would blow up before long.

* * *

Severus licked the remains of the chocolate off his fingers, and then Minerva softly questioned her friend. "Do you _**trust**_ him?"

"You're the only person I trust," was Severus' quick response. "But Damyan… Oxana… they could have let me die. They've been here for _**years**_… no one had any idea who they were, yet now, their existence is known. I find myself… liking… Damyan. We have similar temperaments and Oxana… she reminds me of you."

"High praise," Minerva snapped.

"Yes, it is," Severus admitted, ignoring Minerva's droll tone. "But trust? I fear that I am incapable of trusting anyone…since what happened… yet… he took me in. Saved Ariana. Gave me back my arm… and he just weakened himself considerably for me. I just wish I knew why he was so supportive. So far he's only asked me to teach him the latest in Potions and Charms."

"Maybe he likes you," Minerva offered.

Severus scowled at her, a fierce grimace that didn't intimidate her in the slightest.

"Nobody likes me; they merely tolerate me for what I can do for them," stated Severus. "When my usefulness is over, I am discarded in the rubbish bins with the other broken tools. That's why I can't completely trust Damyan. I know who he is; what he's capable and yet… he's been kind to me."

"You're right, I don't like you," agreed Minerva. "Not at all! You've been of absolutely no use to me."

Severus nodded once and then Minerva roughly embraced him.

"I _**love**_ you, you irritable git," she growled. "If I had ever found you in the rubbish bins, I would have rescued you, mended you and made you better than new. But I would have given you proper clothing. I'm so glad you're not wearing black and I'm so sorry that I couldn't keep Albus from haranguing you. I promised to protect you from him… but… I couldn't. I'm sorry and I've been so concerned about you two. I was never ever ashamed of our relationship, I just kept it quiet so the Hogwarts Hens wouldn't take the mickey out of you."

To Minerva's deep surprise, Severus gave her a brief hug back. He was never comfortable with physical displays of affection so for him to unbend that much brought tears to her eyes.

"I hate to interrupt this very touching scene, but we've got a problem. Dumbledore's outside, and he's put some damn wards up so we can't Disapparate out of the shop. Well, we could, but the amount of magic Oxana and I would have to wield to punch through his wards might be too much for Ariana. There's another way to handle this, so I have to use Ms. McGonagall," explained Damyan.

"What are you planning? I don't want Minerva hurt," protested Severus.

"She won't be hurt as long as she behaves. Just give me a moment, as I need to change. Oxana… Bloody hell, Ekaterina, I much prefer your real name and it's time to stop hiding. Ekaterina, where is my damn surcoat?"

"Which one?" Oxana… no… Ekaterina asked. "The long black one with the scarlet dragon or the shorter white one with the green dragon? The black one is in the hallway. I'll get it for you."

"Yes, the black and scarlet would be perfect. Doesn't show the dirt like the white one," explained Damyan. "I need to talk to St. Albus and I need to look impressive. Need to wear my real face just in case he doesn't recognize me. He is two hundred and and three years old. Senility must be hitting him hard by now and all his arteries must be quite solid bricks of plague. He'll probably recognize my tattoos."

Draganonv gestured and his face changed. His nose grew more pronounced and hooked and his hair grew back until it was long waves of salt and pepper. His appearance _**was**_ Sasha and yet, most assuredly was _**not**_ Sasha. Under his jumper, Damyan was wearing short sleeved Dragonhide armor. His arms were marked with matching dragon tattoos that matched the dragon on his surcoat. He lovingly caressed the gold serpents that writhed on his arms.

The tattoos were entirely too much like the Dark Mark for Minerva's comfort.

"Gellert gave them to me," explained Damyan. "He marked me as _**his**_ Dragon after he freed me from prison. Now, Ms. McGonagall, I have to use you as a hostage."

"What are you doing?" Ekaterina questioned. "Aren't _**your**_ friends helping?"

"No, they're not. We're on our own right now because Byakko and I agreed that there's only one way to handle Albus Dumbledore." Damyan explained as he straightened out his surcoat. "Thank goodness, it still fits. As do the dragonhide gloves. It's very important that the gloves fit. It would be horrifying to be unable to rip off my glove and slap him in the face with it."

"You're _**not**_," protested Ekaterina. "Are you absolutely barking mad?"

"Albus is a man of tradition. He will prefer if we can handle this with a minimum of causalities. I have a tendency of destroying entire cities, so he'll agree. Calling him out for a duel really is…."

"Rather stupid. He beat Gellert, do you remember that?" Ekaterina stated. Her voice was calm, but it was dripping in scorn.

"Only because Gellert tripped. If he hadn't tripped, history would be different!" was Damyan's flippant response.

"Are you telling me that the greatest magical battle ever fought was only won because one of the combatants _**tripped**_?" questioned Severus.

"Yes," Draganov firmly answered. He looked at everyone's disbelieving faces and he growled, "I was bloody _**there**_. Were you? I don't remember seeing any of you lot there. Gellert tripped while Albus was casting his disarming spell. I know, it's really rather anticlimactic compared to the rubbish that Albus promoted."

* * *

No. He couldn't hide behind Damyan and let him duel Albus. There had to be another option… and the only option of which Severus could think was for him to return to the Headmaster. That's why he was here, as he wanted his child's incubator back at Hogwarts.

"Minerva, if I return to the Headmaster, do you believe that he'll let them go?" Severus questioned softly.

"No," Damyan tersely answered. "He will not. He'll come after me anyway because I got involved with you. He'll be angry that I sheltered you and hid you."

"He's already furious that I did a runner," protested Severus. "I'll return to him…I promised that I would…"

"Albus is not angry with you, Severus. He admits that he improperly handled this situation," Minerva insisted. "He's not angry with you."

Dear, sweet Minerva always thought the best of Albus. She just didn't understand how angry Albus had been with him.

"Severus, do you truly want to return back to Albus? Look into Minerva's eyes and tell her that you honestly wish to do it," Damyan ordered.

He struggled to do so, but try as he could, he couldn't look into Minerva's eyes and lie to her.

"He's angry with me," whispered Severus. "He'll punish me. His anger might hurt Ariana. I can't… I can't…"

* * *

Manchester was quiet, entirely too quiet. Black George Street was vacant. Not a soul to be seen, shops closed… the only sounds Albus heard was the Order walking behind him and the thump of Alastor's staff. There weren't any pigeons. Where had all the bloody pigeons gone?

"Alastor, what do you know about Draganov?" Shacklebolt questioned.

"Got a bit of a temper. Anger management issues," Alastor barked.

"Can you tell me more that that?" Kingsley dryly commented. "They don't mention him in a great deal of detail."

"He killed wife and unborn child when he had an eppie. That not being enough, he took out the entire Bulgarian Auror Department. Somehow, they managed to Box him, convict him on all charges and then sentenced him to death. Gellert and his cronies broke him out of jail. For some reason, the Czechs had really pissed him off also, so the first thing he did was go after them. Slaughtered them all. What else do you want to know? He's a bad 'un. World is better off without him," stated Alastor.

"Any weaknesses, how long his eppies last?" Kingsley questioned.

"He is a trained Healer. Sometimes, in the early parts of the war, he'd walk the battlefields, wearing the dark green Healer surcoat, aiding the wounded of either side. Then as the war progressed, he moved into the position of one of Gellert's trusted warlocks. He took command on the battlefield and he'd show no mercy. I met him once…a lifetime or more ago," Albus stated.

"That's the shop," Horace announced. He pointed at a small apothecary called Serendipity.

Nonverbally, Albus cast anti-Disapparation spells and assorted other wards to keep Severus from escaping.

"What do we do now?" asked Aberforth.

"We wait," Albus decided. "Damyan knows we are here, and rushing his location would be foolishness. People might get hurt."

People… such as Minerva, Severus and the child.

Albus loved Minerva, fiercely, and truly, he _**did**_ care for Severus. He just wasn't very good at properly expressing his feelings.

As for the baby? Albus still wasn't quite sure how he felt about _**her**_. Terror and apprehension, mainly, as she was a living example of how badly Albus Dumbledore handled his personal relationships… and a brand new chance to bollock everything.

* * *

"Don't do anything stupid, Miss McGonagall," Damyan warned her just before they were about to step out into the vacant street. "I need to chat with dear St. Albus, and he won't do anything because you'll be standing between us."

"Dueling Albus is rather stupid," protested Minerva. "You don't seriously expect to survive, do you?"

He smiled at her, and shook his head.

"You don't, do you?" Minerva questioned. "Then why are you dueling him?"

"No, but…my best hopes are that I take him with me when I die. A dead Albus would be _**best**_ for Severus," Damyan informed Minerva. "Let us be honest with each other, Miss McGonagall…"

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" Minerva snapped.

"I was raised a gentleman, Miss McGonagall. I never call a lady of your stature by her first name unless she invites me to do so," Damyan primly stated. "Severus has Compulsion upon Compulsion layered upon him. He's Compelled to want the child…"

"He loves her," protested Minerva. "I know he does. I felt his love for Ariana."

"_**Now**_ he does," Damyan remarked. "When he first found out the happy news, I don't believe he felt that way. He's also Compelled to return to Dumbledore but he's been indoctrinated with false memories so he is unable to trust Albus. Severus trusts you; I do hope you understand how rare that gift is."

"I do, but I don't believe I deserve it," protested Minerva.

"Nevertheless, you'll need to protect him when I'm gone. They'll try to put him in Azkaban because he was under my treatment. He fell into my alleyway, Miss McGonagall. He was in dire need of help and I gave it to him. Just a random act of fate. Protect him, please, and I ask you to look after Ekaterina. She's had the misfortune of coming into my orbit, much like your Severus, and I refused to free her from my path. I was lonely and decided to adopt my strays."

He softly laughed.

"Lonely, how pathetic is that. I was lonesome and forlorn, so I adopted a few strays. I used to rule the world, Miss McGonagall, now I sweep the streets I once owned."

* * *

The door to the shop opened and Minerva McGonagall stepped out first. She had her hands outstretched to show that they were empty and a man with long salt and pepper hair stepped out behind her. He was wearing dragonhide armor and a dragon emblazed surcoat. He wore dragon tattoos on his forearms and Albus knew it could only be one man.

"Damyan Draganov," Albus announced. "This is foolishness. Let Minerva and Severus go free."

"Albus," Damyan retorted. "I'd offer my congratulations but I believe that sympathy is what I truly feel. You know the drill, Albus, but let me make sure that that the latest class of Dumbledore devotees is all on the same page. One false step, one wrong move, I kill Miss McGonagall. I don't particularly wish to do that, as I find her… quite enjoyably piquant."

"Thank you for the compliment. I strive to be engaging," quipped Minerva.

"It's a weakness of mine, I like feisty witches. Albus, you also decide to rescue Miss McGonagall, she'll fall over dead in a few hours as I've not completed her treatment for the respiratory burns she suffered in Prague. Speaking of Prague, it's a bloody shame you didn't die there. Well, here's my offer, Albus."

Draganov took off one dragonhide glove and threw it toward Albus. It hit him in the face.

"Duel, one hour in Piccadilly Gardens. A proper duel, Albus, with one of your chosen lieutenants as your second. Perhaps, Master Flitwick? Whoever wins gets to keep Severus. As a sign of my good faith, I'll permit Master Slughorn into my shop so he can talk to Severus. He'll be able to leave and give you a report on how well Severus is doing under my care. He'll also be able to assure you that Severus _**doesn't**_ wish to go with you. It seems his eyes have been finally opened and he realizes what an utter bastard you are."

Damyan softly chuckled.

"A duel? You're no match for me, Damyan. Just turn over Severus," requested Albus.

"Please, Albus, you're two hundred and thirty seven years old. This time, your opponent is not planning on tripping over a rock so you might actually have to duel. Master Slughorn? I give you my word that you can enter my shop and leave it freely."

Horace Slughorn looked as though he'd rather deal with a pack of rutting basilisks than enter the shop. Minerva nodded her head once so Horace would know it was safe. Well as safe as anything could be at the moment.

"Master Draganov, I will take you up on your most generous offer," Horace agreed.

"It is an honor, Master Slughorn. Severus is a most remarkable Potions Master and you were his instructor. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. The lad was quite ill when I met him. He was quite close to death, no doubt due to Albus. He has a tendency of neglecting those that rely on him. Isn't that so, Albus?"

Damyan smiled at Albus.

"I truly wonder how many of your mindless devotees know the real Albus, the Albus that I know. Don't you worry, Albus, I didn't tell Severus everything about you. Some things he'd probably best hear from you. However, I did tell him about you and Gellert. I'm so surprised at you, Albus. He had _**no**_ idea that you two were teenage sweethearts. It's rather sweet story, Albus, two teenage despots, intent on ruling the world."

With that bombshell, a chuckling Damyan returned to his shop, taking Minerva and Horace with him.


	32. Chapter 32

Thanks to T and MM for their suggestions and I'm shamelessly stealing Kyer's comment in her review. We left Severus inside the shop, Albus outside. Meanwhile the Order Members are still recovering from the news about the teenage Albus and Gellert, sitting in a tree, K*I*S*S*I*N*G.

* * *

Severus Snape slowly inhaled, attempting to think happy, clappy thoughts. Even now, Albus Dumbledore and the bloody Order were _**outside**_ the shop. Damyan was recklessly holding Minerva _**HOSTAGE**_… _**HOSTAGE **_to speak with Albus! It was simply beyond Severus' comprehension that there weren't little pieces of Damyan raining from the sky. To his intense disgust, his attempts at appearing composed were not fooling Ekaterina… Oxana… Katya… well whichever personality she was answering to today.

"Listen to me, Severus." Ekaterina ordered. "If anything happens, and we get separated, do not remove the dragon pendant. You're the only one that can remove it."

"It's really not my style," Severus drolly informed her. "I prefer smaller, less gaudy pieces of jewelry. I feel, that throughout my life, my body has been nothing more than a walking advertisement for one wizard or another."

Yes, at one time or another, his body had been adorned with a Dark Mark, now Albus' child swelled his belly plus he was wearing a rather snazzy dragon pendant from the local Dark Berserker.

"The pendant will provide you with a limited protection," Ekaterina continued as though he hadn't spoken. "It will camouflage your unanticipated expectant condition. Most importantly, if we get separated, we'll be able to locate you by simply focusing on it."

Then to his astonishment, she pulled his head down towards hers and she kissed him square on his forehead. She held him like that for a brief time and he felt the unmistakable flicker of magic.

"What did you just do?" Severus demanded.

"Nothing," she said. "This is _**my**_ gift of protection to you. I understand that it's not as snazzy as a jade pendant. Now you best forget this until you need to remember! Perhaps by then, you'll have developed proper respect for subtle witches." She then proceeded to spit up a hairball, or quite possibly cast something in Russian; whatever it was it sounded the same to him.

He blinked his eyes and rubbed his forehead. She gently tapped his forehead with one finger.

"Headache?" A concerned Ekaterina asked. "Let me see if this works. My Baba taught me this trick. Better?"

"Yes," Severus admitted. He still felt peculiar; well, more abnormal than was the norm for a pregnant man. "I don't know why Damyan is getting involved with this. If I willingly went to back to the Headmaster, you two could escape."

"Do you really wish to return back to Albus?" the Russian witch asked him. "Be truthful."

Yes, he should lie to the witch; glibly assure her that he'd go back to the Headmaster without a singular, solitary qualm. He couldn't, because Ekateirna knew of his nightmares. The witch had witnessed how seeing Damyan out of the corner of his eye reduced him to a sniveling child just because the Bulgarian looked a little bit like HIM.

"I don't fancy returning to him," Severus admitted. 'But I promised."

"Ah, so you still keep your promises to him. Even after everything's been done and all his pledges are like dust beneath our feet, you'd still go back to him," Ekaterina commented. She shook her head. "Well, it's not like I can say anything because a grimy cauldron shouldn't call another cauldron dirty."

"Yes, but at least you and Damyan love each other," Severus reminded her. "No matter how odd your relationship is, you still have that."

"Love. My presence has kept Damyan sane and under somewhat control these last thirty years. That defense will not help me a great deal if I ever come face to face with my former Russian comrades. Now just remember, if we get separated, you're strong enough to stand on your own two feet. You've come a far way since we found you in our alleyway." The Russian witch nodded her head in approval. "I look at you and I don't even recognize my dying patient from that night. And none of your snark about you wearing a Glamour now."

"I've put on a fair amount of weight," he quipped.

"Not enough for Sasha's taste. He thinks you should weigh in at a stone or so more," Ekaterina commented.

Nadya chirped a warning and Ekaterina moved away from Severus. "Company. Damyan's bringing back a wizard besides Minerva. It's _**not**_ Albus."

The door opened and in walked the most unlikely wizard. If Godric Gryffindor had stripped down to his gold and scarlet knickers and then waltzed through the door, Severus would have been less surprised. No, it wasn't Albus, the mystery wizard was a rather round, tweed clad soul who was struggling to appear as though he was merely enjoying a jaunty stroll through Manchester with Minerva McGonagall and the local, crazy Dark Wizard. Damyan's expression was one of blissful self-satisfaction, while Minerva McGonagall looked irate. At not at Severus for once as her annoyance was directed toward Damyan. What the hell had Damyan done to get Minerva pursing her lips like that?

Best ask the question whose answer he believed that he could handle.

"_**Horace**_?" Severus asked. "What are _**you**_ doing _**here**_?"

"Yes, m'boy. Just wanted to pop in, see how you're doing," Horace jovially announced. "I was just walking in the middle of Manchester when Master Draganov invited me into his shop. We were just having a lovely conversation about Potions."

"Just assure him that you're doing well, Severus," Damyan explained. "He's to report back to St. Albus."

Horace was continuing to smile, but Severus saw the cracks in his veneer. Slughorn was bloody terrified and not for himself. No, he was frightened for Severus. Really, why did everyone fail to see that Albus Dumbledore was far more dangerous than Damyan and Ekaterina?

"I've been quite worried about you m'boy," Horace explained. "You've fallen in with some interesting people."

"When did we decide to throw a party?" Ekaterina snapped. "Are we planning on any one else showing up? What the bloody hell is going on? Should I get out the kettle and brew some tea?"

"Language, Katya! I'm dueling Albus in about fifty minutes," Damyan explained. "Miss McGonagall is my hostage so Dumbles behaves and Master Slughorn is here to talk to Severus. Once he's done, he's to report back to Dumbles. A cuppa would be nice, and do we have any scones left? I'd like my last taste to be of something sweet."

Ekaterina began energetically cursing at Damyan in assorted different languages and Damyan calmly ignored her. Instead, he created a comfy chair and curled up in it so he could read "Dueling for Dummies". Nadya jumped in his lap, and with one hand he began to stroke his familiar. "Hmm… seems they've changed the rules a bit since 1945," he dolefully remarked. "Could prove problematic as they've shortened the length of the straightaway. I have to make sure I don't step out of it. The problems with having long legs…"

Bloody hell, Dragan ov hadn't dueled since _**1945**_?

"Rather colorful," Horace murmured. "Now, seriously, Severus. How are you doing?"

"Scones?" Ekaterina asked. Horace jumped as the witch nearly brained him with the tray. "Cuppa?"

"Horace, this is Ekaterina Sidorova Dobrolubskaia. Ekaterina…" Severus began. In the midst of a sea of insanity, perhaps it was best to pretend that a Russian witch serving tea to various hostages was customary. Therefore, introductions were required.

"Call me Katya," the witch dryly insisted. "We're pretty much all family here."

She stormed off to duly present Damyan with his scone. It seemed that it was not all beer and skittles in the Draganov family.

"Severus, do you know about your father?" Horace asked in a very quiet voice.

"What about Tobias?" Severus asked. He kept his voice low.

"The night your mother died, it seems…. he was stabbed to death," Horace explained. "We're not sure who did it, but one of the men appeared to be Japanese."

Minerva inhaled.

"_**What**_?" Horace asked.

"There was a Japanese mage in here earlier. Damyan seems to have… _**friends**_…They're supposedly not getting involved."

"Very well, the other man had green eyes. Filius describes it as a quick, professional killing."

Severus swallowed. His eyes flickered once toward Damyan who was holding the book sideways as though he was examining a photo. The Dark Wizard gyrated wildly as though he was attempting to duplicate the dueling stance. Try as he could, Severus couldn't remember anyone ever commenting one way or the other about Damyan Draganov's ability to duel. He looked like a complete tyro!

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Albus Dumbledore was not happy about Severus being protected by a Dark Wizard. Combined with the fact that the Dark Wizard in question was holding _**Minerva**_ hostage, a woman that Albus Dumbledore had once deeply loved, there was no doubt that Albus Dumbledore was furious. Hell had no fury like Albus Dumbledore enraged. Not even legendary Damyan the Foamer could reach THAT frenzy.

Oh bloody hell, Damyan would be _**slaughtered**_.

Then Severus' dark eyes immediately locked onto Minerva.

"You've fallen in with very dodgy people, Severus." Minerva whispered softly.

"They were there for me when my mother died," protested Severus. "They both sat with me until Eileen passed. They _**saved**_ my life and most importantly, they _**saved**_ Ariana."

"They're still dangerous," Minerva protested. To her annoyance, she was trying to warn Severus about his friends and he was still flatly refusing to see the truth about them.

"I've heard that said about you," he reminded Minerva.

"Idle flatterer," Minerva warmly retorted. Her lips were twitching as though she was struggling not to smile.

Damyan barked. "Stop flirting with Miss McGonagall. You're supposed to be telling Master Slughorn about what wonderful care I've given you. How I should be published! I put your arm back on! You can even scratch yourself with it! _**Amazing**_!"

"Is he _**sane**_?" whispered Horace.

"YES!" Damyan announced. "I am perfectly sane! Now, Master Slughorn, it's time to bid adieu. Once you start insulting your host's sanity, you've outstayed your welcome. Now get out."

With that, Horace was firmly escorted to the door. Damyan energetically waved goodbye and then slammed the door shut. He put his head on the door and sighed. That bit of weakness admitted, he then turned to face Ekaterina.

"I fear that I put the Damaged and Deranged Damyan persona on a bit thick," he admitted to Katya. "It's been far too many years since I had to utilize that role. Hopefully, Albus will hear what he wants to hear in Horace's report. Do you have that box that I prepared?"

"Yes," Ekaterina assured him. She placed a small oak box on the last remaining table.

He opened it and took out assorted vials. Carefully, Damyan slipped them into his surcoat.

"Take the rest. Katya. When I fall, you start throwing them. My friends will take care of the rest," he instructed. "Would you mind braiding my hair? I don't want it getting in my eyes when I'm dueling."

"Sit down," she instructed. He gracelessly collapsed into the chair.

"I thought your friends weren't helping?" Minerva asked.

"Please, did you honestly expect me to give you any helpful information?" Damyan asked. "You're stuck in here with us now so there's no chance you'll be able to slip Dumbles information."

Ekaterina began braiding Damyan's long hair into a neat braid. He closed his eyes but he held out his hands in front of him. Deliberately, he began stretching his fingers and wrists. When they were suitably limber, he began to flex and extend his elbows.

"You're tight through the neck and shoulders," Ekaterina tersely informed Damyan.

"The neck is an old injury," stated Damyan. "From when they put me in the Box. I'm too damn big for the regular sized Box, so they just stuffed me in. I was in the fetal position for two damn days. Then, on the day of my execution, Gellert rescued me. Brother Toma had to carry me out of the prison as I couldn't move. My muscles had cramped and were locked in position. My brother promised to carry me wherever I wanted for as long as I needed."

"My brother Toma is remarkable. I truly believe that he would be willing to carry me anywhere. He and his sister Sofia were declared to be monsters by the Bulgarian Ministry because they had giant blood. Yet, I always found their basic humanity to be their greatest strength. Sadly, Sister Sofia was killed by Dumbledore. If I can only take Dumbledore down with me, I can help you, Severus, and avenge my sweet Sofia. Oh, she had such a merry laugh."

His smile was bitter as he laughed. "And Miss McGonagall, those that denied me a trial, locked me in a Box for two days? They were the good guys."

* * *

A shaken Horace duly reported his findings to Albus and the assorted Order members. In his opinion, Damyan was volatile, a potential powder keg who had an unknown number of friends.

"Just the one witch in the shop?" Alastor barked. "No troika?"

"Unless the cat is an animagus, I just saw the one witch. Damyan seems… _**peculiar**_…" Horace explained.

"He's been diagnosed as clinically insane," Kingsley Shacklebolt helpfully inserted.

"He's not barmy," Horace protested. "He's sly, Albus. Like a bloody fox. Damyan Draganov regrew Severus' arm, Albus. He has limited use of the arm, Albus. You know the skills required to _**rebud**_ a limb. Charms, potions, human transfiguration!"

Albus Dumbledore pondered the information for a long while.

"He's playing a role, Albus. He's not insane but he's bloody dangerous." Horace explained.

"I don't understand why he's involved," Albus questioned Horace. "His modus operandi was just to disillusion himself and fade into the background. For fifty years that has been his plan, now he's dueling?"

"He seems fond of Severus." Horace offered.

"Isn't that nice, Severus has a Crazy Dark Mage playmate," Moody snapped. A few Order members smiled.

"I'm rather fond of the boy. You are braver and far stupider than everyone claims you are if you think you call me a Dark Wizard and _**live**_," was Horace's retort. He glared at Alastor Moody and the old Auror nodded his head in grudging apology.

"Severus knows a great deal about the current magical situation. If Draganov and his friends are interested in establishing a beachhead, they could certainly use his knowledge toward that goal." Horace reminded them. "Damayan seems quite sane, but there's always the chance that he'll run amuck."

"Come walk with me, Horace," Albus requested. He wished to find out more information about Severus and to escape from the prying eyes of the various Order members who were thinking obscene thoughts about him and Gellert. Everyone had been surprised and horrified by the scandalous tidbit, except for Alastor. He had just nodded his head, which meant the grizzled Auror had already known the sordid story. Yet, none of the Order Members were saying **_anything_**. "I wish to talk to you in private."

The two wizards walked down the street.

"How's Severus?" was Albus' first question.

"He's wearing a glamour and I couldn't tell you if he's with child or not. For what it's worth, he was rather snide," offered Horace.

Albus briefly smiled.

"I must confess that I find that I rather miss his snark," he admitted. "And Minerva?"

"Quite unwilling to admit that she's in over her head," Horace said. He shook his head in disapproval of Minerva's cavalier attitude. "She'll land on her feet; I have no doubt about it."

* * *

Harry Potter and his assorted followers were in the midst of a deserted Manchester. Cannon Street was almost too quiet, as the only living thing besides them that they saw was a large, floppy eared, one eyed dog. It was really a rather disreputable looking dog, but its merrily wagging tail caused Hermione to smile. The dog really was a rather jolly canine.

The dog greeted Hermione and then busily introduced himself to the other members of the group. He seemed especially taken with Harry, sniffing him and jumping on him.

"Oi!" Harry hissed as he pushed the dog off him. "Get off."

"Look everyone, Harry's got a new best friend," Ron quipped.

Harry made a rude comment about the dog snoring less than Ron did. Ron was about to answer in kind when Sirius Black arrived. He was breathing heavily and he was glaring daggers at Harry.

"What are you doing here? Dumbledore doesn't want you here!" Sirius, who struggled to be the stern godfather, failed miserably at being threatening and authoritative. No, he sounded worried and winded.

"I'm legal age," Harry reminded Sirius. "I can be involved in Order business."

"Harry, this doesn't concern you." Sirius then looked at the other teenagers, completely missing the fact that the dog was creeping quite close to him. "Go back to Hogwarts! Oi! Bloody dog!"

Sirius Black, not happy that the dog had decided to lift his leg on him, attempted to kick the dog. The dog easily evaded the enraged Sirius Black and happily barking, the dog ran away at high speed down the street. He disappeared from view as quickly as if he had Disapparated.

"The dog was laughing," Luna assertively announced in her usual spacey tone. "That's odd, isn't it? A laughing dog? I didn't know dogs had a sense of humour."

"Bugger!" Sirius growled. He charmed his pants clean and then attempted to regain control of the situation. It was somehow appropriate that the most ill-behaved of the Mauraders had been watered by a dog and was proving completely incapable of controlling the pack of high spirited teenagers. "Albus doesn't want you here. That should be enough for you, Harry, as it's sufficient for me! Now, let's go back to Hogwarts, shall we? We'll keep this little escapade between us as I don't want Remus finding out."

Harry and Sirius argued. Harry, wanting to exert his new found independence, desired to continue the adventure. Sirius, knowing that he was in the dog house, struggled to convince Harry that his involvement wasn't such a good idea.

"I don't think Voldemort is planning on showing up," he assured Harry. "This is just a quick trip to extricate Snape out of his self-imposed trouble."

In answer, there was a deafening explosion to the east of them. There was a large cloud of acrid, multihued smoke rising to the sky and Sirius saw a large, fiery dragon burst across the sky. There were a few sigils floating on the afternoon air and for the life of him, Sirius Black couldn't have told anyone who they represented. Draganov probably as there was a large, dancing Dragon.

"That's a magical explosion," Hermione announced as though the gyrating dragon wasn't a dead giveaway. "The Sigils represent Gellert's Brotherhood, Gellert and Damyan Draganov."

"Let's _**go**_," Harry ordered his troops.

"Bugger! Harry!" Sirius futilely protested as he ran toward the fire and after the teenagers. "Albus will kill us all Harry!"

* * *

The multi-national team of Aurors arrived in Manchester where they straight away infiltrated the group of British Aurors. The crowd, while having the appearance of being a large milling mob of jolly holiday travelers, was, with the sad exception of the British Aurors, an organized team of highly competent personnel. Siberian Serge had taken charge due to his age and experience while the British Aurors had futilely protested that the Foamer was on Their Soil, so it was Their Foamer, Their Campaign, Their Country so they should be the ones in charge.

"Too damn quiet," Richard the Head Yank announced. He waved his hand and then whispered an incantation before nodding his head. "Just as I thought, a repel spell. Someone Repelled everyone in the immediate vicinity to leave. Dumbledore most likely, as there would be less risk of civilian casualties."

Considering that there was thirty seven Aurors in the middle of the Market Street, it was very fortunate indeed for the one eyed dog that no one saw him. Instead, he crouched behind a bin and peered around it.

Things were most assuredly afoot in Manchester, Toma Filipov realized.

The Living Horcrux, the Dog Mage and various brats were on Cannon Street having a rather loud row. Being a rather strict father, Toma firmly believed that the Living Horcrux needed a good spanking and lessons in manners. What a mouthy brat he was! He'd never let any of his children talk back to him like The Living Horcrux had to the Dog Mage.

Meanwhile, there was a multinational Task Force assembling on Market Street. That was unexpected, and needed to be reported to Byakko. Albus and his Dumbledore Devotees were standing in front of Damyan's shop on New York Street. Meanwhile, the Brotherhood had luckily decided to assemble on Hope Street, so they should have unfettered access to Piccadilly Gardens.

Byakko had instructed Damyan to blow up his shop and then announce his presence by placing the Brotherhood sigil in the sky over Piccadilly Gardens. That little act of Brotherhood Defiance was expected to bring Snake Face and his cronies there. Truly, Toma was quite surprised that Manchester wasn't sinking into the North Sea from the accumulated weight of al the mages and their egos.

Well, enough dogging about, Toma needed to find Byakko and inform him of what he had discovered on his walkabout.

All they needed was the Dumbledore's pet Werewolf and the party could begin.

Snezhana Ignatieva, the current leader of the Brotherhood, was determined to present Severus Snape with the werewolf wrapped in silver wire as a token of the Brotherhood's high regard. Damyan Draganov spoke highly of Snape and the boy was the reason why the senior most members of the Brotherhood had learned to fly. Toma liked flying sans broom as he found it quite relaxing. Being part giant, his mass had required a very _special_ broom when he had learned how to fly as a student. He had lived in constant fear of hearing it crack and had never gotten very comfortable with a massive tree limb between his legs. But Goddess knew, he enjoyed flying in the air, unsupported by broom or by carpet.

Toma sniffed the air and his canine nose picked up the smell of wolf. The wolf was by himself on Portland Street and would soon meet with the Brotherhood. Carefully, the animagus snuck away from the Task Force and cut across a few streets. When he was in the clear, Toma began to run, putting everything he had into a mad sprint. They needed the werewolf as the Brotherhood wanted Severus Snape.

No, Snezhana was determined that today would be the day that everyone realized that the Brotherhood wasn't _**back**_. It in fact, had never _**LEFT**_. It had licked its wound, learned from its mistakes and was now once again, a force to be feared. By killing Snake Face and St. Albus, the Brotherhood could show Severus Snape that they were worthy of his considerable skills. They were proficient enough to protect him and most importantly, _**cared**_ enough about him to avenge his lost honor.

What Damyan had painstakingly planned for the ones that had abused Severus?

Truly poetic justice.

Meanwhile, the Merry Mass of Magicians aka The International Task Force, after much discussion, had decided to continue northwards on Cross Street toward Cannon when there was an explosion. Serge vigorously and creatively cursed when he recognized the dragon sigil floating in the sky. He had lost a dear friend and fellow Auror to Damyan Draganov, and he had sworn a solemn oath to avenge Ekaterina. Gellert's Brotherhood was bad enough, but Serge had been fond of Katya. Bright girl with so much potential. To end up dead in an alleyway because of Draganov enraged the grim Russian.

How her needless death still angered him.

"That's near Piccadilly Gardens," one of the British Aurors announced.

Serge agreed and then began tersely informing the various Aurors who and what they were facing.

"Madman, reckless, dangerous. There will be deaths today; I can not stress that enough. The streets of Manchester will run with blood," Serge announced. A few of the Brits rolled their eyes, thinking he was just being overly Russianly pessimistic. "He took out the Bulgarian and Czechs Aurors. Every single one of them. Ludamilla, you're to go to Bulgarians, inform them of what we believe the situation to be and invite them to join our party."

* * *

Remus Lupin kept his breath quiet. It was too bloody quiet in Manchester. Shops were abandoned, the doors unlocked… There was a sense of dread in the heavy air, that he should, with all due haste, flee Manchester.

Where the _**HELL**_ was Sirius? Damn it, Sirius had agreed too easily to staying at Hogwarts. Dora had even remarked on it before she had fallen asleep. Her comment had motivated Remus to locate Sirius Black. When he couldn't find him in the castle, he had searched for Harry Potter, then Hermione Granger, then Ron… when he realized that even Luna Lovegood was _**GONE**_ from Hogwarts, he had decided it necessary to visit Manchester.

Remus wanted nothing more than to grab Sirius and Harry by their ruddy ears and pull them back to Hogwarts. He wasn't an Auror! What was he doing pretending to be Alastor Moody? Well, Alastor was a bad comparison. Moody would be storming down the street, head held high, not skirting the perimeter of the houses.

There was a sound behind him and Remus turned to find a rather large, one eyed dog staring at him. The dog's eye was too intelligent to a mere dog and Remus instinctively defended himself. The dog's snarl stopped in midbark when Remus put the dog to sleep. The dog fell on its side with a heavy thud and Remus shook his head.

"Who the hell are _**you**_?" He whispered. "You're not a friend of Padfoot."

"Toma Filipov, werewolf," a man informed him. Remus struggled to Disapparate the hell out of there but he had been immobilized and magically incapacitated right after he had felled the dog. To his horror, his wand was stepped on and deliberately crushed. "Brother Basem, please check Brother Toma."

There were thirteen of them, dressed in dragonhide armor. Their armors weren't emblazoned with the Brotherhood sigil but Remus knew who the hell they were. Bugger it to hell; he was surrounded by the very geriatric outlaw wizards that he had so cavalierly mocked. That thought wasn't what caused Remus' blood to run cold. It was the fact that they were wearing silver.

SILVER.

Silver chainmail and silver bevors with gorgets to protect their necks and mouths from _**him**_.

Protection from him, in case he was so far gone that he was capable of changing his form without the moon being full.

"Thou shall not suffer a werewolf to live," the man, who seemed to be in charge, stated. He was wearing Japanese robes but his face was hidden by a full kabuto and menpo. A full Samurai helmet and face mask? Gellert's Japanese Warlock had worn such a uniform.

The mage then forced Remus to look at him. You couldn't see the mage's eyes, which combined with the kabuto and menpo made him seem a demon from hell. "You will do everything I instruct you to do. You will make no effort to flee. You will make no sound. You will take no action that will cause harm to come to any of my comrades or myself. You will perform no magic unless I give you permission. Is that understood? You may now answer me with either yes or no."

"Yes," Remus stated. Damn it, he was Imperiod as he had wished to say something quite rude.

"There's forty mages we hadn't counted on," said another voice. Remus couldn't turn his head but it sounded like the animagus had recovered. "Looks like the Europeans have arrived. The Brits are sulky because a Russian is calling the shots. The Living Horcrux and the Dog Mage have also decided to join the party. Junior is having a snit as Dog Mage wants him to return back to Hogwarts as Albus doesn't want the children involved in this. I swear if Potter was my son, I'd paddle him until he learned respect."

_HARRY! SIRIUS!_

"We can handle the Europeans, as they've be fighting amongst themselves on who is in charge." the leader said. His voice was uncaring of the fact that there were forty more mages. _We can handle them_. It was said so easily that he sounded bored.

"Go warn Brother Damyan. You can also inform him that we will be there as soon as we finish securing the werewolf in silver. Notify Damyan that since the Russians have taken over command of the Europeans, most likely they'll be informing the Bulgarians and the Czechs. Therefore anticipate their arrivals. When He Who Believes himself Gellert's Successor arrives, there will be four different armies there, with the strong possibility of at least two more arriving and the British splitting from the Europeans. Because they're children fighting monsters, the Europeans, the British, the Bulgarians and the Czechs will immediately join forces with Albus' army. When the attack begins, we will fight and no mercy will be shown."

The Japanese mage softly laughed.

"Albus' problem will be that he will have so many allies that he won't know who they are. We'll be able to kill, while Albus' army will be limited to _**stunning**_. They know who the Death Eaters are, but they don't know who we are. Albus' allies are also very independent and don't play well together. They also will want nothing more than to survive this. We, on the other hand, are the Brotherhood. We fight together and we will die together. And if be today that we die together, let us die _**gloriously**_. With _**honor."**_

"Also, under no condition is Damyan to be allowed to be Boxed. If it's necessary, kill Damyan before they inflict that on him," the Japanese mage ordered. "He is our Brother."

The dog barked once and then began running down the street.

"Now, back to our werewolf," the Japanese mage said. "I have a tanto, which has been modified for you and your special characteristics. It is made of silver."

Remus swallowed once.

"Just a demonstration so I'm sure you understand," the mage informed him. With a cavalier efficiency, he sliced Remus' cheek with the tanto's blade.

As any magical tyro knew, silver is anathema to werewolves. Remus collapsed to his feet and screamed. Least he tried to shriek as the agony began building past his endurance to endure, but the Japanese mage's command to say silent, held his tongue mute. The Japanese bastard grabbed Remus by his shoulder and effortlessly yanked the heavier, taller mage to his feet.

"Hold still, wolf," the mage enunciated. He dabbed something on Remus' cheek and the pain eased to a manageable level. Manageable as is in Remus wasn't in the fetal position, puking his guts up. "Listen to me, wolf. I didn't cut you; I merely scraped you in order to give you a tasting of what will happen if you decide to misbehave. If you behave, you will not to have to worry about being cut. I can assure you that a cut will be far more excruciating. Because I have no stomach for torture, I covered your wound with a salve. I believe easing a prisoner's pain is honorable. Do you _**not**_ agree with me, wolf?"

The mage waited for a response, his hand resting easily on the handle.

"Yes," Remus whispered.

"Please hold out your arms," the Japanese mage ordered. "We will put gloves on your hands and protect your forearms from direct contact with the silver. There will also be a scarf around your neck. If you behave, that should be sufficient protection for your skin. Disobedience will lead to silver burns on your hands and neck."

His hands! The mages encased them in silver. A silver chain was wrapped around his neck and was hooked to the Japanese's mage's belt.

"Because you're conducting yourself so well, wolf, you may ask me one question," the mage stated.

"What are your plans for me?" asked Remus.

"Twice, you have attempted to murder Severus Snape. I am giving you to him so that he may do what he wants," was the mage's ready response. "I understand that Albus Dumbledore has previously been your protector. Unfortunately, one should not always rely on having powerful friends to circumspect justice. Damyan Draganov is most displeased with the fact that you still breathe and has decided it proper to intervene."

There was a loud, earth shaking explosion and assorted sigils filled the sky, plus a dancing dragon.

"Very well, it's time for us to make our arrival. You will march in front of us. My spear has a silver tip. Do not stop short as I will accidentally pierce you with it," the mage stated. "Brothers? Sisters? It is time to remind the magical world how it once trembled before us."

The coven lined up easily in perfect formation and then began marching in step towards Piccadilly and Ragnarok.

If he survived this, Remus vowed that he'd kill Sirius Black. With his bloody, bare hands.

* * *

"Minerva, you look annoyed when you came in. Why?" Severus asked.

"No reason," Minerva lied.

"I told the Dumbledore Devotees that the love of Albus' life was Gellert," Damyan tersely explained. "Minerva, I already told Severus about the flowering of affection between the two teenage tyrants. Unlike most, I try not to lie to Severus. Not directly or through omission of facts."

"I'm sorry, Severus. I know how you felt about Albus and…" Minerva shook her head. "I didn't wish to bring it up."

"I just don't understand you, Minerva McGonagall.," was Damyan's opinion. "You do care for Severus. I mean, you willingly walked into the den of the dragon to warn him that Albus was coming for him. You told him to FLEE, if I remember correctly. Yet, you don't give him the truth about Albus. If Severus truly understood what type of man Albus Dumbledore is..."

"He's a good man," Minerva protested.

"Severus… Albus has discovered that you're here… You… your friends… you need to leave," retorted Damyan. "Funny, I rather thought that was you. Perhaps it wasn't as your color is much better than that witch."

"He needed to be forewarned so he could make the decision to stay or to go. I also thought that I should warn his friends that Albus was arriving so they could run like hell."

"I _**wouldn't**_ leave Severus to face Dumbledore alone," protested Katya.

"Severus, Albus admits that he didn't handle this situation properly. He overwhelmed you because he wanted you to believe that he'd be there for you during this," Minerva insisted. "It's my fault that he went back on the Bonding. He was overpowering you…" Minerva continued.

"Like the sea," whispered Severus.

"Because he just wanted to fix everything," Minerva finished. "I told him not to Bond you and I argued with him that he forced you into agreeing with it."

"Yes, let's fix Severus. Let's clad him in purple and lock him away until the baby's born. Make him absolutely dependent on Dumbledore's whims. For the greater good, you understand," inserted Damyan. "That's Dumbledore's solution to anything ugly. Pretty it up and if that doesn't work, just lock it in a room. Ignore it and hope that the problem never disturbs him again."

For some reason Damyan's comment rattled Minerva.

"And your answer to his problems was to hide him away in bloody Manchester?" was Minerva's astringent retort.

"I _**made**_ him stand on his own feet. I _**made**_ him brew, I _**made**_ him work. He _**earned**_ his keep and he regained his faith in his ability to brew," Damyan retorted. "He worked and he worked bloody hard as I'm an absolute bastard as a boss. He's a first class wizard with a remarkable ability. Under my roof, he _**remembered**_ that. Dumbledore's answer would be to hide him away in a room and turn him in an emotional cripple while his belly swelled. I bloody kicked Severus out of the shop so he'd have to walk the streets of Manchester to get me my bloody scones. Katya and I, we made him _**face**_ the world on _**his**_ terms, Miss McGonagall."

"And yet, his answer to this mess is for him to return with all due haste back to Dumbles." Damyan shook his head while he bitterly laughed. "It's not your fault, Severus. It's the Compulsion."

"Compulsion?" asked Severus. He was echoed by Minerva and Katya.

"Compulsions. The Bastard that did this to you put several Compulsions on you, Severus," explained Damyan.

"You never mentioned that to him?" Minerva's tone was sharp. "Not a lie, but perhaps that might qualify as an omission of the truth, Damyan Draganov?"

"I was hoping to find a way to break them after the baby is born. The problem facing me is that I can't break all of the Compulsions because they're keeping Severus alive. From what I can determine, Severus, your fixation on Albus and your willingness to return to him are Compulsions. You are Compelled to want the child and to protect her at all costs," Damyan stated.

"I _**love**_ her," Severus shakily protested. "She's the only positive thing I've ever done."

"You've done many positive things in your life, Severus. Don't let Dumbledore convince you that you're only good for incubating. That your only use is to prevent him from getting his lily white hands dirty. As for the Compulsions, consider the Compulsion to love her is merely added insurance," Damyan explained. "I know you love her. She's a miracle, Severus. However, I don't believe that Albus Dumbledore has truly learned anything from his previous mistakes with you. He was planning on removing you from here by force, as he has a half dozen or more Order members out there with him."

Minerva protested. "It's your _**reputation**_, Damyan."

"Yes, I must be particularly fearsome to Dumbles if he decided that he required the protection of his goat-loving brother. No, no, let me guess, Albus is fancying some goat cheese, that's why Aberforth is out there."

Minerva had no answer to that and Damyan turned to face Katya.

"Do you have a token?" was his odd question. "When I duel the most powerful wizard ever to walk on the earth, I can use whatever good luck I can obtain. Damn shame I can't swill a little Felix Felicis. Unfortunately Liquid Luck isn't allowed before a dueling match."

"I have just the thing," the Russian witch assured him. "It's a silver hair pin, with a nice sharp point to it. If your wand shatters, you can hopefully stab him with it. Try for his foot so he has to hop around."

Damyan barked an approving laugh then looked at Severus.

"Anything from you?" he asked.

"Just a question," Severus said.

"You should know by now it's a strong possibility I won't answer it, but go ahead," said the Bulgarian.

"_**Why**_?" Severus asked.

Why are you dueling Dumbledore? Why the death wish? Why are you helping me? A thousand different whys and a bemused Damyan just shook his head.

"Because I know that you're worth it. Now, my friends, I believe it's time to end this particular chapter. I must confess that I rather liked Aleksandar Zoravkov and I am deeply saddened to see him and Oxana die. However, I have a duel to fight in fifteen minutes, so I believe that a final, leisurely stroll of Manchester is now required. Everything out of the shop, Katya?" Damyan asked.

"Yes, and the fuzzies promise to stay with Severus and me," Katya assured him. Grisha and Nadya, their two familiars, chirped their agreements.

Toma Filipov materialized in the shop then. He was breathing heavily but the half-giant mage looked quite amused. He spoke rapidly with Damyan. Whatever they said, Damyan seemed inordinately pleased.

"Let us go then," Damyan announced.

He escorted everyone out of the shop and then he closed the door for the very last time. With a slightly cheeky grin, he locked the door.

"Seems rather stupid but Aleksandar would never leave the shop door unlocked," he explained. "Very well, let us go to Piccadilly Gardens where Albus Dumbledore awaits."

They had just turned onto Portland Street from New York Street when a loud explosion shook the group. Damyan and Toma were expecting it as they grabbed Severus by his arms to help him keep his balance. Ekaterina, Minerva and the two familiars were quite unnerved by the detonation but Damyan tersely explained, "It is best to leave no trace behind."

"You blew up the shop," Severus stated. "Between that and the sky sigils, I fear you're leaving more than a few traces, Damyan."

"Let's keep walking," Damyan instructed. "Miss McGonagall, it's very important that you listen to me. You're currently under my protection, but please try to keep your comments to yourself. While I greatly appreciate your sardonic comments, I fear the others may not be amused."

Damyan motioned for them to keep following him. When he reached the corner of Portland Street and Aytoun Street, he gestured for them to stop.

"My, my, my," he laughed. "This is a most welcome sight. Severus? I believe this is for you."

* * *

First thing Minerva noticed was thirteen mages in dragonhide armor. She heard Severus sharply inhale and only then did she notice their prisoner who was being motivated to walk by a spear carrying mage. Their captive was a graying, ill looking man, with a silver chain wrapped around his throat and his hands encased in what seemed to be silver. He was shivering uncontrollably. There was no recognition in his eyes when the prisoner looked at her. But Minerva McGonagall knew the scarred faced prisoner.

_**REMUS? He's wrapped in SILVER?  
**_

"He's in the preliminary stages of acute silver toxicity," Damyan's witch whispered to her. "He's hallucinating. That much silver should have him seizing, they must have diminished the adverse affects of it."

"Lupin," Severus said in a clipped tone. "What is he doing here?"

"Severus, he's a present," Damyan happily explained. "Snezhana is gifting you with the werewolf as a show of her regard for you. He's tried to murder you twice but because of his Spangled supporter, he got away with it. Not any more, my Brother. You don't have to worry about anyone ever hurting you again because the Brotherhood takes care of its own."

"I don't know what to say," Severus stalled for time. "Thank you does not properly convey…"

"Severus, by the time the sun sets today, I will have avenged you," Damyan cheerily informed him. "All those that have wounded you will at last realize their grievous mistakes. No doubt they will beseech you for mercy, but I warn you, harden your heart, my Brother. Their crimes against you cry out for their deaths."

"Come now; let us go to Piccadilly, where Albus and his supporters await. I will duel Albus, in defense of my Brother Severus' honor."

Damyan happily smiled and his fellow Dark Mages began chanting, "_**Dragon**_! _**Dragon**_! _**Dragon**_!"

"Bloody hell," whispered Severus. "He's _**insane**_."


	33. Chapter 33

Synsopsis: Left Damyan and Albus comparing the size of their wands in the last chapter.

Thanks to T for her help with this chapter.

* * *

"He's _**not**_ insane," Ekaterina chastised Severus. Her voice was low as though she wished Damyan not to hear. Though in Severus' opinion, it was highly doubtful that Damyan and his group of Dark Wizards would hear a spontaneous concert of The Weird Sisters. The Dark Wizards were in the middle of a street in bloody Manchester, busy removing their werewolf catching wardrobes and creating bloody _**banners**_. There was a standard flag that matched Damyan's surcoat that Byakko was even now hoisting to the sky. Damyan's dragon, Byakko's white tiger of the West and there were other standards he didn't recognize. Who was the man with the lion's head? The hippogriff?

"For Christmas, he's given me a werewolf _**wrapped**_ in silver," Severus whispered. "Perhaps that's not quite traditional for one's first Christmas together?"

Bloody hell, the Headmaster was at Piccadilly.

_The Headmaster will be bloody furious_, his mind sing-songed. Bad enough that he ran, bad enough Severus had the misfortune to land in with Gellert's followers, but … _**Remus Lupin**_. The Headmaster adored the fuzzy werewolf, looked upon him as one of his most successful Dumbledore-improvement projects. Between Severus' new best mate Damyan holding Minerva hostage and Ragnarok shortly occurring in Manchester, a silver-plated werewolf would be the absolute final straw… the Headmaster would be so beyond irate with him.

_The Headmaster will be bloody furious, The Headmaster will be bloody furious, The Headmaster will be bloody furious…_

Flashes of what had happened and what supposedly had happened were filling his mind. Remus the wolf, growling, the wolf's saliva hot against his skin. The Headmaster was pushing him down on the ground, Severus, knowing what was about to happen, had to be physically endured, but spiritually, he sent his soul far, far away. They could hurt his body, yes, but…only his body…

Perhaps, it would be the best for Ariana… because when the Headmaster punished him, Severus wouldn't whinge and plead for leniency. Whinging only upset the Headmaster which led to further punishment for Severus. If he just took his punishment, silently as though he was Gryffindor-brave, maybe… maybe the Headmaster would stop before Ariana was harmed.

_I disgust him, but he enjoyed my body, didn't he? The Headmaster visited me every night during my captivity to enjoy me… He stroke my hair, told me how good I was…._

_I'm so confused… did that happen?_

He was adrift, watching the scene unfurl. His body continued to function, but his soul… the essence of what he was… was free to watch the raree show unfolding before him. Really, was that dark haired figure with the curly hair and beard, _**him**_? It must be, because the man was holding his left arm stiffly bent. Really, it was a rather impressive Glamour as he looked deceptively sylphlike with no trace of Ari whatsoever… no belly… no man boobs…. And anyone who knew Severus Snape at all knew that he'd never wear those particular colors. He'd certainly never stoop to wear a jumper, jeans and trainers.

But the man in the brightly colored jumper was shaking, because the frightened schoolboy had to deal with the angry Headmaster. Foolishly, he had thought he had come so far since he had fled from the Headmaster. In fact, Severus hadn't gone one step; instead, he had _**retreated**_ as the mere sight of _**HIM**_ had him terrified, fearful of messing his pants.

"Damyan's family was landed gentry, so he has quite a few blue-blood personality quirks. Nobility is one of them," Toma Filipov explained to Severus' physical shell. The half-giant mage was gingerly holding Lupin's silver chain as though he was holding something rather icky. "Blood protection. You came into his house in dire need of assistance. Since he took you in, he's responsible for your protection until you're capable of standing on your own two feet."

The half-giant jerked the chain and the werewolf staggered towards him.

"Wolfie? Water?" The massive mage cheerfully asked Lupin.

The exhausted werewolf nodded his head and the mage gestured. A large bowl of water appeared on the ground in front of the werewolf and a disapproving Minerva shook her head. She picked up the bowl and held it front of Remus.

"Small sips. Your throat might be swollen from the silver," Minerva warned Remus.

He nodded once and sipped small amounts of water. When Remus was done, he mouthed, '_Thank you_'.

"He's _**not**_ responsible for this," Minerva quietly whispered. "Believe me. He's a victim in all this, just like you."

Once more Remus nodded his head to convey his understanding, and then he mouthed, '_Scared'_ and '_Dora'_. Then he mouthed something else, a dire prediction of Sirius Black's short future if Remus survived.

"Very well, my Brothers and Sisters," Byakko announced. "We send our Brothers Damyan and Toma in first. Then we'll make our appearance."

The Dark Wizards didn't cheer; instead they punched the air with their fists.

"Very well, Wolf, you will carry Damyan's banner," Byakko informed Remus. He motioned and a flag harness appeared around Remus' neck. "The banner drops and Toma will pierce you with the spear, Wolf. Is that understood? You may answer me."

"Yes," Remus' voice was rough.

* * *

Manchester was too damn quiet, Minerva realized. Their odd little cohort of wizards was making their way to Picadilly and Remus was stumbling. His breathing was labored and he stopped. Toma pierced him with the spear. The pricking of Remus' back caused him to fumble and nearly drop the flag. His clumsiness earned him another slash on his back and the werewolf silently screamed his agony.

Severus looked _**vacant**_. The only way to describe Severus was though his soul had decided to go on a jolly holiday, leaving the lights on, but no one at home. That wasn't a good sign. Meanwhile Ekaterina appeared unhappy and Minerva…well, Minerva was bloody furious.

"For the love of God, Toma," Ekaterina barked. "Let me carry Damyan's banner. You're _**not**_ a torturer. You've _**got**_ honour. There's no way he can walk and carry it at the same time. The silver's gone to his brain."

"Damyan?" Toma asked the crazy Bulgarian, who was looking seriously annoyed at how Remus was cocking up his entrance.

"Your arrival will be less than… impressive, if Remus drops your banner," added Minerva.

"Katya?" Damyan asked. His voice was oddly soft and affectionate. "Would you do me the honour of carrying my standard?"

"Yes, I will carry it," the Russian assured him. She took the banner from Remus and mouthed something to Remus.

_I'm trying to do what I can for you. I can't do much._

_

* * *

_

The various Order members stood in the Gardens, and Albus motioned to his brother. Deliberately, he ignored Alastor. The Order was still digesting the tasty tidbit that he and Gellert had been teenaged sweethearts and Albus simply did not have the energy to deal with the caustic Alastor Moody right now.

"Anything happens to me…" Albus began.

"I'll get him out of there," Aberforth assured his brother. "I'll get Minnie out also."

"Thank you," was all Albus could say.

"Moody wants a word with you."

Really, was it necessary for Aberforth to grin like he was barmy?

"Yes, Alastor?" Albus asked. He struggled to keep his voice free from the annoyance he was feeling.

"I already knew about you and Gellert," barked Alastor. "I managed to settle down the rest of the Order Members by reminding them that you were only a hormonal prat when it happened. They were acting like a bunch of three years finding out the truth about Father Christmas. I told them to snap it together."

"Thank you, I think," quipped Albus.

"Is there anything else you think they should know? By that I mean, are there any more Boggarts in your wardrobe? Or is it just full of fancy clothes?" Alastor asked. "I'm expecting that if he knows anything else about you, he'll throw it out and enjoy watching what sticks to the wall. You're the better duelist, so he may wish to emotionally compromise you."

"At my age, Alastor…" Albus began and then stopped.

_Where do I begin, Alastor? I was involved in my sister's death? I don't know who killed her because I'm too frightened to know the truth about that sad event? That I fear that I did it? That Minerva and I were lovers? That Severus and I were intimate? That there's a child involved in this insanity?  
_  
"We dance around in a ring and suppose. But the secret sits in the middle and knows," Albus softly quoted.

"Bloody hell, quoting Robert Frost? Very well, I'll warn them that there might be more about you coming out, but to remember what type of man you have been these past thirty odd years," Alastor growled.

"Severus is to be considered innocent in this. He is NOT to be injured. If any Order member harms him, even accidentally, they will have to explain themselves to me," was Albus' next command.

Alastor just shook his head and growled his disgust at Albus' obtuseness.

"Please, just do as I ask," Albus requested.

* * *

Remus put down one foot after another, struggling to keep up with the pace.

The silver was burning his hands and throat and it was becoming more and more difficult to swallow. Plus the repeated prickings of his skin by the silver spear was causing his back to spasm. He was also hallucinating as he noticed that Severus walked a great deal like Dora. The awkward waddle…the hand on the back.

His one brief glance at the Glamoured Severus Snape had earned him a slap across the face from Draganov. But he still noticed how Severus was favoring his back… funny, he never knew Severus had a dodgy back.

But then again, how much did he _**really**_ know about Severus? Besides the fact that James Potter and Sirius Black had instinctively hated him from day one?

Nothing… nothing at all.

Facing the end of his life, Remus finally saw himself and his furry little problem in the eyes of one Severus Snape.

Karma was a bitch, and she would NOT be denied.

That had been one of Lily's favorite savings.

It was a quaint way of saying sooner or later; past deeds would come back and haunt you. Remus' mum, on the other hand, had been pure blood, wizards and witches going back to Merlin's great-great-great-granny. While she had believed that the much hallowed Rule of Three, where everything you did was returned to you three fold, was utter rubbish, she had repeatedly warned Remus, "Do what thy wilt, though it harm none."

Well, it seemed his actions against Severus were finally rebounding back on him.

Karma had decided to appear in the form of one geriatric, outlawed, foaming wizard. Severus' Personal Retribution Made Incarnate scared Remus very, very much. Not because of Damyan's reputation, but how he just seemed so damn normal. He wasn't the grandiose Lucius, the belligerent Bellatrix… his face was normal, not the leathered skinned Voldemort.

Damyan seemed perfectly sane, though somewhat grandiose in speech and manners, and the fact that he sensibly viewed Remus Lupin as a Dark Creature in Dire Need of Extermination was rather reasonable. Yes, after the Shrieking Shack incident… especially the _**second**_ one… Remus certainly could understand that analysis. He had punted his potion, Peter had gotten away, Severus had gotten hurt and… he was a Dark Creature that simply couldn't be trusted to take his medication as required. Therefore, his elimination was deemed logically appropriate and long overdue.

And Damyan's seemingly irrational desire to duel with Albus?

Rather understandable.

Albus had sheltered Remus many times in his altercations with Severus. Harry, Sirius and most of the Order who were also on Damyan Draganov's _List of People that would Make Severus' Life Better if They Permanently Disappeared_ were _**all**_ under Albus' protection. Albus had first refused to mount a rescue for the captured Severus, but something… had changed his mind. Remus hadn't been able to find out WHAT had caused Albus to launch the rescue attempt, but… Severus… Severus had been a whimpering, bleeding wreck when Albus had finally gotten him freed.

It was small consolation that Remus knew that Damyan Draganov had underlined and starred He Who Must Not Be Named as requiring extra special attention.

If Remus was Severus… and Damyan had wanted him just because of his knowledge and skill, he wouldn't have trusted the mage. After all, Severus had heard the same spiel from both Albus and Voldemort… and look what it had gotten him…but… Damyan was skillfully wooing Severus. First, he had re-grown Severus' arm and now, now he was systematically removing the _Very Not Nice People that had Harmed and Abused Severus._

_Look what I can do for you, Severus. I __**can**__ protect you. I __**will**__ protect you._

"Almost there," whispered someone. "Just keep walking."

Dutifully, he nodded. He knew that he was dying, that he'd never see his son born… Maybe, he'd have blue hair?_  
_

"Good morning, Albus. So nice of you and your friends to join us," announced a male voice. "Katya? Please put my banner someplace nice, won't you?"

"_**Remus**_? What are you doing in Manchester?" That was another voice.

Albus… it was _**Albus**_. He opened his eyes to see that Albus and the Order were facing Damyan.

"They're here…" Remus mouthed. "Min… tell… _**him**_."

"Sit down," ordered a female voice. "You need to sit. I'll get you some more water."

"Right now, the werewolf is my present to Severus, Albus," explained a male voice. "You see, Severus, Albus didn't care enough about you to put a muzzle on his pet werewolf. I did."

Lupin sank to his knees and bowed his head. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't survive this latest stunt of Sirius'.

* * *

Remus Lupin! As though he didn't have enough concerns on his weary mind, the Gods had decided to give him more. That towering mage could only be Toma Filipov, another one of Gellert's supporters which combined with the Russian witch, gave Damyan a troika. He had a dozen Order Members with him, so a fight with the troika would be bloody but short. Yet, Damyan had Minerva and Severus, and as a bonus, had somehow acquired Remus.

_**Lupin was in Manchester**_.

There were only two reasons why Remus would be there after he had been specifically warned against it. Either Sirius Black or Harry was in Manchester. With his luck, perhaps both of them were in Manchester, having a bit of tea.

"Minerva, please stay with Severus," Albus requested.

Severus didn't look healthy. Gone was his usual sharp demeanor, where he watched everything and revealed nothing. No, instead, Severus seemed _**dazed**_… was he _**drugged**_? Was the glazed look part of the bloody glamour?

The witch gave him a blistering look which also contained a warning. For the briefest moment, Albus believed he heard Minerva screaming, "_**Thirteen**_!"

Bloody hell, a coven? Did Damyan have a _**coven**_? Who the hell was bloody left from Gellert's old crowd?

"Damyan, we don't need to fight. You can just leave them," offered Albus. It was a rather generous offer on Albus' part, but he wanted Minerva, Severus and the baby and Remus out of this alive.

Damyan shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't think you understand, Albus. Severus doesn't wish to go with you. He's finally realized what an utter bastard you are." Draganov waved his hand in front of his eyes, and explained, "The veil has been lifted from my Brother's eyes. I am quite afraid that the Dumbledore veneer is looking a little worn."

There was a hiss of protest from an Order member. Hestia, Albus thought. He waved in her gesture, hoping that she'd take the gesture as the warning it was.

"Severus, I know you're angry with me," Dumbledore began. Albus didn't care that it sounded like he and Severus had a bloody lover's quarrel. He needed to get Severus away from Damyan.

"Harden your heart, Brother," warned Damyan. "The sweet sounding lies have begun. He'll promise you anything and everything. You know he will."

Severus said not a word; instead he seemed to be blankly staring ahead.

"He'll assure that all is forgiven, Severus. Warmly welcome you back, and then the abuse will begin again. It will start off with small things. In the beginning, it will only be a forgotten promise there, a little white lie, perhaps a slip of his temper. There will be a nice little party celebrating his victory. The wolf will sit on his right and the Dog Father on the left," Damyan's voice was honey smooth and sincere sounding. "He'll come back to your locked cell, carrying a tray full of delicacies and tell you that everyone missed you while you were recovering from your traumatic ordeal."

"Cell?" Albus protested. "There are no cells at Hogwarts."

"Yes, there may be a dozen pillows on your large bed, Severus. There will be wall hangings and paintings and libraries of books but it will be your gilded prison, Severus. You _**know**_ how he is," whispered Damyan. "You escaped from him once; it will not be allowed to happen again."

Severus swallowed, but his eyes were still blank.

"Severus, don't listen to him," Albus began.

"Once again, Albus doesn't take note of your concerns. He easily dismisses them as being trivial. You see, Albus knows best. Albus knows the best way to handle your situation. You will need to **_rest_**, Severus. You shouldn't have any visitors because you need to regain your strength."

"I'd like to see him stop me," growled Minerva.

"She says that now, but Dumbledore will win that war," whispered Damyan. "Look at him, Brother. He likes _**pretty**_ things, _**bright**_ things. Anything that's ugly, anything that's painful, he doesn't like to bother with as he might get his lily white hands dirty. Did he ever mention his _**sister**_ to you? She was less than perfect, Severus. She had been injured, badly maimed by Muggles. They hurt her in her mind, Severus."

_**There**_.

Severus _**reacted**_.

Severus' dark eyes darted toward Albus and then focused back on Damyan. Albus didn't like what he saw in Severus' frightened eyes. A distrust of Albus that boarded on a drowning panic. He could admit that Severus' fear of him was richly deserved, after what _**they**_ had done to him, after what _**he**_, Albus, had done to him, but Damyan Draganov's vitriol was augmenting Severus' apprehension.

"_**And**_?" Severus whispered.

"Severus…" Albus began.

"She was damaged in her soul. Poor little thing, a hurt little flower and dear Sainted Albus couldn't be bothered with her. He was too busy, you see, as Gellert had attracted his interest. Gellert was bright and beautiful while Ariana… crawled in the mud and played with goats," Damyan explained. "When one views himself as a living God, a brained damaged sister is a hard bit of reality to swallow."

Alastor Moody grabbed Aberforth in mid-charge and spun him around with a quick TopsyTurvy spell.

"Severus, Damyan is a master manipulator. The man you mistakenly credit as your benefactor killed his wife and unborn child, Severus," interrupted Albus.

"I grow weary of that lie repeated and embellished as the gospel truth. It was the Muggle who killed my wife and child. And, yes, I _**killed**_ him," admitted Damyan. "For I dearly loved my Dana. For someone to harm even a single strand of her hair… Albus, there's a major difference between us."

"Sanity," retorted Albus.

"Unlike you, I defend those for whom I care, while you can't be bothered. You're too busy focusing on Albus. I challenged you to a duel, and duel we shall. We shall do this properly, Albus. Pick your second and I will pick mine," Damyan announced. "But first, you and I, Albus, let's have a little chat. Good Master Flitwick can referee while we set up the parameters."

The Dark Mage turned toward Severus and grabbed his upper shoulders in an approving gesture.

"I'm so proud of you," Damyan's voice carried to Albus' ears. "You stood up to him. You didn't crawl on your belly back to him."

"That would have proven… awkward," was Severus' dry comment. He paused and then continued, "His sister, Damyan? He told me he _**loved**_ her."

"It's an unhappy story, Severus," Minerva interrupted. "You should hear it from Albus."

"No, he should have already _**HEARD**_ about it from Albus," Damyan retorted.

* * *

Really, he should take more of an interest in the proceedings. He just couldn't seem… to focus except for his brief spurt of bravery. His mind was screaming at him to pull it together and he just _**couldn't**_. His body was here… and THE HEADMASTER was here… an angry, fuming Headmaster… and… Severus was watching the play unfurl around him. There was Lupin with the silver sickness, Minerva… Filius and Horace were even there to watch the raree show. In the wings, there was a brigade of dark wizards waiting their cue.

He needed to focus... on his safety. He shouldn't rely on Damyan's easy assurances that he'd protect him… a trusted few had promised to protect him over the years… his mother…. Lily…. Minerva… and they had_** failed.**_

Once, he had hoped that the Headmaster would protect him, but Albus simply couldn't be bothered.

Yet, he couldn't help but ponder Ariana Dumbledore, the original…

The Headmaster liked pretty things.

He protected Black, he adored Lupin, the fuzzy wolf who could do no wrong… yet…was that a look of revulsion in Albus' eyes when he briefly glanced at the ailing werewolf? Did he step back from the werewolf so not to get his fine leather boots dirty?

What… if Damyan spoke the truth? That… Ariana… had been injured and… the Headmaster… hadn't wanted to be bothered… He was… always flashy… always being noticed…. Liked the nicer things in life… what…. What… what if… Ariana… was damaged… what if she wasn't… _**perfect**_? When he died…. And… if Ariana wasn't… bright and beautiful…what if she was dark… and damaged… like _**he**_ was… how would the Headmaster react?

Would he be… _**ashamed**_… of her?

Would he put her in a little room? Fill it with all sorts of toys… so she wouldn't bother him? A benign neglect where Ari was hidden away…because she damaged… not quite comfortable with attention… as she needed to rest…. A thousand and one different reasons why Ari was best kept away from the public came to Severus' mind.

_I __**love**__ you, Ari. You wouldn't have to be perfect for me!_

Severus had a sick feeling in his gut. Maybe… maybe… he had been wrong all long. Maybe, he shouldn't have worried so much about the Headmaster taking Ariana from him… maybe… he should have been more concerned how the Headmaster originally didn't want a damn thing to do with her….

"Come, let's sit down," Minerva requested.

Someone… Minerva… took his hand, helped guide him to a chair. Katya was chatting with Minerva about something and he just couldn't focus. He wasn't in Piccadilly…. He was home…

_**Home**_.

Spinners End and he was hiding… hiding from HIM. He was in his room, trying to hide in the small space between his bed and his wall. Ari was with him and she had wiggled her way underneath his shirt. He was holding onto her tightly.

"Why doesn't Poppa like me?" she wept.

He just held her tighter against him.

_

* * *

_

"Master Flitwick, it is an honor," the Dark Wizard urbanely commented.

His statement earned him a dismissive flick of one of Filius' impressive eyebrows.

"Severus thinks very highly of you," was his reply. "I _**am**_ quite apologetic about the entire matter regarding the goldfish pond. Toma set up the wards and he just thinks _**BIG**_. Albus, you do remember Toma, don't you? You killed his twin sister, Sofia? Bright girl, pretty smile… rather on the tall side?"

Albus just gave him a wintry smile.

"Let's just set the ground rules," Albus stated. "Standard dueling rules, twelve paces apart, five rounds, five minutes per."

"Agreed," the Bulgarian agreed. "Duel to the death? Our seconds take over if we're both physically incapable of finishing the duel."

"You're not in my league," Albus tersely reminded him.

"We've both gotten older, put on some weight… I might surprise you, Albus. Plus, the fact that Severus isn't running back to you must be quite disturbing. Don't worry; I understand why you want him back, Albus. He's such a _**sweet**_ kisser and quite the snuggler."

Albus continued to smile, but his blue eyes no longer twinkled.

"Draganov, taunting is not allowed according to the Rulebook," Flitwick reminded the wizard. "Do you have your second?"

"Really, it depends on Albus and who he chooses. I called him out for a duel so he makes the decision. Then I have to figure out from my vast entourage who to chose. Such an embarrassment of riches," glibly assured Damyan.

"Albus, I'll be your second," Filius offered. "I know the rules."

"Oh dear, I shan't be able to use Toma as my second then," pouted Damyan. "The height difference you know. And I can't use Katya as my second, as they outlawed male-female dueling after that horrible mismatch in 1922 where the witch handed the loser his tripes. Master Flitwick, will you be so kind as to set up the dueling area? I'll need a minute or two to find a suitable second. For my referee, I'll use Toma. Why don't you use the infamous Alastor Moody for the droll symmetry of having one-eyed referees?"

Damyan turned as thought to move away from Albus, but then he turned to face Albus.

"I really should thank you, Albus. I enjoy Severus in my bed, even when his daughter kicks me. He's so bloody appreciative over the smallest amount of physical affection. It's like he's starved for affection. I have to keep reminding the poor boy that mutual fondness is _**supposed**_ to be the norm in a healthy relationship."

With that final quip, Damyan skipped… bloody _**skipped**_… towards Minerva and Severus.

"Easy," Filius warned Albus. "That exchange was supposed to upset you."

"He succeeded," Albus admitted. "I have no claims to Severus… but I would have much preferred that his new partner was Minerva."

"That's it? You're just stepping aside, Albus?" Filius chastised the younger mage.

"Filius, Severus is in dire need of someone that can help him heal. Minerva would be good for him, and I know that she always wanted children of her own," murmured Albus. "I think they would have been good together."

"_**TOSH**_!" The normally unflappable Filius Flitwick growled. "You have always been scared of Severus, even when he was a student."

"Not true. I was not frightened of Severus the student, but I was deeply alarmed by his sheer emotional penury. I feared to fail him," Albus slowly admitted. "I failed my family when they needed me and you know what happened."

"So, you thought doing nothing was better option?" growled Filius.

"No, but I had other issues. I saw Sirius as a potential Gellert, a potential convert to Voldemort's insanity, Remus as Ariana and…" Albus paused and then stopped. "I had hoped that Remus would settle those boys down. He, of the four of them, understood what it was to be on the outside."

"He was bloody twelve years old, Albus. Did you really believe that he'd stand up to his only friends? Albus, you need to get it together. Severus is a massive orb of emotional need right now. You must get over your fear of failure and bloody _**support**_ him during this. And by supporting him, I mean, you let him decide what he needs from you. Don't overwhelm him, Albus. Let him breathe and let him heal. Take it _**one**_ minute at a time, Albus."

* * *

"Bloody hell, he's been bad," Katya groaned. "He's bloody skipping like an utter loon."

Damyan's wild grin quickly faded but he continued to merrily prance towards them.

"I felt the Deathstick pointing towards my shoulders while I was hopping towards you like I was the bloody Hopping Pot incarnate," he growled at Toma when he finally reached the safety of his site.

"What did you say to him?" Katya asked.

"Nothing," Damyan lied which earned him snorts of disbelief from both Minerva and Katya. "We've got problems. Flitwick is his second."

Minerva managed to refrain from cheering loudly at that bit good of news. Filius was a damn fine duelist.

"His strike zone is impossible. I'll have to wear my monocle," growled the one-eyed Toma. "I might accidentally step on him. That's an automatic disqualification."

"You're _**not**_ seconding me," Damyan explained. "You'll referee the match. Byakko will second me. He's the best duelist we have in a non-European dueling style plus being the closest to Filius' size. Anything happens to me, you get Severus and Katya out of here, Toma. Remember our Bond will break on my death, Ekaterina. You won't be able to reveal anything about our escapades but you also won't be tied to my body, wailing like a banshee."

"What about Wolfie?" Toma questioned.

Damyan took one look at the heavily sweating Remus and rolled his eyes. "Albus can have him. He'll be dead from silver toxicity soon enough. It seems he's more susceptible to silver than most werewolves are. Any idea when the Dog Father might be showing up? He's on my list for special attention."

No, Minerva mentally growled. She wouldn't let Remus die from silver poisoning. He needed more water in order to stay hydrated, so she carefully helped him drink more water. Remus was feverish and he rested his head against her cool hands.

"He should be here," the half-giant explained. "He might have gotten lost, but one of the little horrors must know a location spell. I can't believe how _**mouthy**_ those Hogwarts brats are."

Her students _**weren't**_ brats, Minerva inwardly protested. Certainly no Dark Wizard should have the nerve to call her students _**brats**_. But her students were in serious trouble if they were off Hogwarts grounds without permission. It wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend and Manchester during a Wizard War was a decidedly non-approved outing.

"Severus? How are you holding up?" Damyan gently asked Severus. He put his hand on the quiet Severus' shoulder. "Just a little longer and you'll be free of Albus."

"Tired," Severus slowly admitted. Then he softly whispered, so Remus wouldn't hear him. "Damyan… my tiredness… it's not… affecting…her? She's… _**healthy**_?"

The Bulgarian tilted his head and looked at Severus for a long moment. His eyes unfocused and then Damyan blinked and smiled.

"Busy sleeping right now. Growing is _**very**_ exhausting work so she's having a bit of a kip. She's absolutely knackered but completely healthy." He held out her hand in front of Severus' face. "Look at my hand. Do you see her? She's sucking her thumb, you'll need to nip that in the bud early."

Severus intently stared at Damyan's hand. After a minute or so, his eyes widened in surprise and then he briefly smiled.

"Try to conserve your strength," was the Bulgarian's soft response. "Soon, you'll be someplace far better than here. You'll like it there as the warmth of the sun will sink into your bones. You'll be warm; I know how badly you feel the cold. Plus, she'll love splashing in the ocean when she's older. There will be a great many children her age to play with. She'll have a wonderful childhood, so much better than yours was."

"I don't believe that I'll be there for her," Severus protested. "I'm running out of time."

"Yes, you _**will**_ be there," was Katya's response. "You were dying when we found you, Severus. If it wasn't for Damyan, you'd be long dead by now."

Severus nodded his head.

"Have faith, Severus," the Russian witch gently chastised him. "You're almost there."

"I know it's June, but September just seems a lifetime away," he explained. He paused before his lips twisted into his familiar mocking grin. "Thankfully, I got to see Minerva one last time. Though I must be in far worse shape than I feared. Minerva hasn't reminded me that her Lions beat my Snakes during their last Quidditch match."

"I thought it would be bad form to gloat," Minerva snipped. "Though you still owe me our wager."

Her caustic quip caused Severus to laugh. Minerva thought it was the most wonderful sound in the world.

* * *

Remus was feverish and his heart was racing along merrily. He kept his eyes shut so not to be blinded by the bright sun.

Were they talking about _**babies**_? Severus and babies? Well, maybe Severus wanted to be a father.

Remus did… well… he liked the making of babies, but he wasn't quite sure if he was up to being a Father. Arthur told him just to hang on to his hat and enjoy the ride but it was easy for someone with as many kids as Arthur had to make it sound so damn easy.

He'd never see his child born. If he did escape from this, it was too late as the silver was in his blood. He'd be dead before September.

* * *

"You've got a dozen Order members, so we don't have enough to Box the Compass, which is the traditional dueling setup." Filius reminded Albus. "You'll be the South point on the compass while Draganov's North. I will be East… and Damyan's invisible second will be West. How do you want the Order spread out? Three each positioned on the ordinates?"

Albus said nothing.

"I don't believe that he and Severus are lovers," Filius gently informed Albus. "He's quite dodgy, playing that he's off his broom. He's perfectly sane, Albus, and those comments were deliberately said. He wanted them to get under your skin and rub your soul raw."

"I know, Filius," Albus commented. "However, Severus doesn't look well."

Filius brusquely nodded his head. With a quick snap of his wand, he set up a proper dueling arena.

"Then I suggest you better win this and do so quickly," Filius tersely informed Albus. "And if you don't, I will. Let's get Alastor, shall we? I see he's warning everyone about the possibility of a coven."

* * *

"It's time," Damyan quietly announced. "Wish me luck, Katya."

He kissed his lover and then the Bulgarian grinned at Severus. "Care for a quick bit of snogging?"

"I'm afraid that you're not my type," was Severus' dry retort. Damyan ignored him and deliberately kissed Severus on both his cheeks. He then embraced Severus quickly before Severus could make his escape. Severus struggled briefly but Damyan continued to hold him close.

"Relax, I would never hurt you," Damyan assured Severus. "It will be alright, Severus. No matter what happens, be strong, my brave boy."

That advice bestowed, he scratched Grisha and Nadya, ordering the two fuzzies to stick with Katya.

He then looked at Minerva.

"I'd ask Miss McGonagall for a good luck kiss, but I think she wishes to hex off my nethers," Damyan chortled.

Instead of hexing him, Minerva held out her hand. "Thank you for taking such good care of my Severus. He was lucky to find you."

"Luck had nothing to do with it. Destination, Determination and Deliberation did," Damyan retorted.

"Wilkie Twycross would be proud to know that someone listened to him," Minerva snarked.

A rather bemused Damyan gingerly shook Minerva's hand.

"Are you going to pat the wolf on his head? You've run out of babies to kiss and kitties to tickle," Toma reminded Damyan. "It's time to duel."

* * *

"Who is his bloody second?" Alastor growled. The one-eyed former Auror wasn't even bothering to hide his disgust with Albus' tomfoolery. "Toma can't referee and second his duel."

Albus said not a word.

He was too busy reliving Damyan kissing Severus. Yes, Draganov had kissed the Russian witch but he had also buzzed _**Severus**_ several times. They had _**embraced**_. Yes, Severus hadn't been exactly demonstrative… but still the entire scene was distinctively … unSeverus like.

_I really should thank you, Albus. I enjoy Severus in my bed, even when his daughter kicks me. He's so bloody appreciative over the smallest amount of physical affection. It's like he's starved for affection. I have to keep reminding the poor boy that mutual fondness is __**supposed**__ to be the norm in a healthy relationship."_

Was he doing the right thing? Yes, he needed to get Minerva out of the current situation, but… what if Severus desired to be with Damyan?

Severus had wanted to be with him… _**originally**_. Then after everything, the damaged Severus had still been fixated on him… and now… was he sharing Damyan's bed? It _**wasn't **_that he was _**jealous**_; Albus was just deeply concerned that Damyan was exploiting a vulnerable Severus. Yes, _**concerned**_.

Not jealous.

He had no right to be jealous.

None.

"He's not bleeding from his nose yet," Filius, the true academic, cheerfully informed his taller magical brethren, as the non-blood splattered Damyan Draganov walked towards them. "No tears of blood either. Good sign, as it means that he's not berserking. The sky is still blue and cloudless. Berserkers have a tendency of disrupting the weather patterns."

"Do they now, Filius?" Alastor quipped in a 'tell me something I don't already know' tone. "I know that Gellert's covens have thirteen mages."

"Don't be a smart arse," Filius chastised his former student. "I'm just reviewing what Albus might face. Also, I've noticed that the magical nodes are _**wild**_ here. They're misbehaving and just are not following the conventional node eddies."

"Think he's tapped into them?" Alastor intently questioned.

"No, I think they're just ferociously feral. A mage probably drained them dry centuries ago and left them depleted. No one's bothered with them since, so they've built up to a rather substantial power source. Plus most mages don't like dealing with nodes as they're too damn erratic." Filius then shook his head. "Albus?"

Filius cleared his throat loudly and then repeated himself, "_**Albus**_?"

"Yes? Filius? You were saying?" Albus's response was automatic.

"Alastor, go scare someone, please," Filius not so gently suggested. "I need to speak to Albus in private for a moment."

Alastor growled and stormed off. He began ordering the various Order members to their various positions, repeatedly instructing Aberforth to go to the Northeastern compass point, not the Northwestern. The two obstinate Wizards argued for a bit about where exactly Northeast point was until finally Aberforth got the point.

"What is the matter, Albus?" Filius asked.

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing," slowly admitted Albus. "I wish I knew what Severus wanted."

A gobsmacked Filius just stared at Albus for a moment and then shook his head. "This revelation of yours, Albus? It's six months too bloody late. But my question to you is… what does Albus Dumbledore want?"

"When did you take over Minerva's role in my life?" Albus dryly asked his former professor.

"When she decided to go to Prague and ended up with a case of crispy lungs," Filius reminded Albus. "Answer my question."

"I wish Severus health… physical and emotional." That was an easy answer, but naturally, Filius Flitwick was not happy with that. Filius always demanded more from the students he deemed exceptional, whether or not they were still a Hogwarts student was immaterial.

"What about your daughter? What does Albus Dumbledore wish in regards to his daughter?"

"Albus Percival Wulferic Brian Dumbledore is terribly afraid of her," confessed Albus. "He's not sure of anything besides that."

"You're afraid of a _**baby**_? You make a habit of facing Dark Wizards on a regular basis and you're afraid of a _**baby**_?" Filius questioned. "Spit up won't ruin your clothes, Albus."

"I'm terribly frightened that I will cock it all up. I'm… I'm… not good at emotions. I think it's an inherent flaw in me..."

Left unsaid was that Albus desperately wanted Minerva free from Draganov. However, of all of the current prisoners, Severus, Minerva and baby, he was only sure that Minerva didn't wish to be there.

* * *

The two Dark Wizards arrived at the dueling location. Damyan was wearing a bright smile while the half-giant Toma looked rather grim.

"I see everyone's in position," Draganov chirped. "Lovely day for a duel."

"Where's your second?" Alastor rumbled. "If you can't provide one, you forfeit the duel."

"Bloody hell, Toma. He _**does**_ know the rules." The Dark Wizard mock pouted. "Where ever will I find a second? Isn't most of the Brotherhood dead thanks to Albus?"

"My sister certainly is," Toma tersely offered.

"Sweet girl," Damyan commiserated. "Had such a lovely sense of humor."

"Find _**one**_ or _**forfeit**_," the short-tempered Alastor demanded. He was quite tired of Damyan's flippancy.

"You know, really, Albus. Fighting over Severus like he's a damsel in distress? Isn't that a little bit beneath you? Can't you just accept the fact that Severus has moved on?" Damyan's voice carried in the stillness of the Manchester afternoon. "I know this has crushed your ego, but really, it's not Severus' fault that you just didn't have the sexual stamina to keep a young man like him satisfied. I mean you are two hundred and forty seven years old. Good Lord, Albus, it was only the one night between you. From all accounts, it wasn't even that good. Why are you so bloody sexually obsessed with Severus?"

The Order was shell-shocked. If Alastor thought that they had acted like stunned three years olds before, this latest tidbit about Albus had them doubting their sanity. Albus _**and**_ Severus? A few of the braver Order members were looking at Albus out of the corner of their eyes, waiting for Albus to deny the latest accusation.

_**Severus… the greasy black bat of the Dungeon and…. Albus Dumbledore… did the horizontal spellcast?**_

"Albus, your little Devotees didn't _**know**_? That you had decided to sleep with one of your followers? And then, the morning after, you decided to kick him out of your bed and treat him like a piece of…."

There was a bright flash of scarlet and gold in the air as Fawkes attacked Damyan. The Phoenix raked his claws deeply in Damyan's face and the Dark Wizard cursed. Toma hit Fawkes with a rapid-fired curse and the Phoenix burst into flames. The chick fell to the ground. A blue-grey cat bounded over to immediately pounce on the defenseless chick. The cat neatly picked up Fawkes in her mouth and sauntered over to Katya. The Russian witch put the Phoenix in one hand and then deliberately encircled her fingers around his neck. Albus, horrified that Damyan now had _**FAWKES**_… stepped forward one step, and then stopped when Filius put out his hand.

"Don't do anything stupid. They've got Fawkes," Filius reminded him.

"Bugger it," growled the bleeding Damyan. He had four deep and long scratches running down the left side of his face. The blood was oozing into his eye, requiring him to wipe it away. "Katya, keep the Phoenix. If you need to, use the Phoenix to make sure you're safe. Albus won't want a damn thing to happen to the bird. Bloody shame you care more about the bird than you do people. Very well, let me get my second here. He's quite anxious to see you again, Albus. "

Damyan hissed one word in Bulgarian. A fiery spark fell from the sky, down towards the earth.

Alastor began warning the Order to get into position.

"Watch it! They're doing the Hecate formation!" Alastor roared. "Bloody hell; don't tell me you don't know the counter position. I don't care how many Defense instructors you had, the counter position is just common sense defense! _**Places**_!"

_**Hecate**_. The three faced goddess of crossroads… The formation was named such due to its heavy reliance on the use of the troikas of wizards and witches… The Hecate formation reminded Albus of a time long past when Europe had burned and burned.

The sparks separated into thirteen smaller sparks which began encircling the Order. First slowly and then faster and faster until they broke apart once again, breaking off into five separate groups. Four groups of three and one lone spark. They exploded with a loud, thunderous boom, shaking the ground for miles around.

When the smoke cleared, there were twelve hooded figures with their wands extended, facing the Order. It was a tense moment, each side waiting for the other to make one wrong move.

"Damyan, this is a _**duel**_. According to the 227th edition of Iannes and Mambres' _Handbook to Duels_, which we agreed upon as the rulebook for this combat, there is an _**armistice**_ between our two parties. Please put down your wands," Filius Flitwick politely requested. "Also, I would ask that you please remove your hoods."

With a swift gesture from their leader, the coven put down their wands and dissolved their robes. They were older, established mages, wearing dragonhide armor. All were in their magical prime, being at least seventy years old. Abus knew every damn one of them and every bloody one of them was supposed to be quite dead.

_The white witch of Warsaw! The lion of…_

"Recognize my friends, Albus?" Damyan interrupted Albus' thoughts. "My dearest Sister Rada? As constant as the Northern Star. Sister, please take the North position. Please reassure me that you remember _**Rada**_, Albus? You _**must**_ as you killed her Sofia."

Three of the mages walked toward the North. The hawk nosed female nodded an acknowledgement to Severus.

"Brother Besem, please take the South position," Damyan requested. "Sister Amina, take the East. Brother Ilias, you will be my Western constant."

That left one Mage. The one that was still wearing his hood. He, alone among Gellert's followers, had not drawn his wand upon his arrival. He had also not removed his hood when requested. Instead, he stood alone, with his arms crossed.

"My second," was Damyan's needless explanation. "Brother, it is long past time for you to remove your mask. Let the world finally look upon you and know who you truly are."

The mage removed his robe to reveal Ishikawa Byakko. Gellert's Japanese warlock, onetime Special Adviser to the International Confederation of Wizards and now outlawed wizard, bowed his head in greeting. He was wearing antique Japanese bespelled dragonhide armor complete with matching tantō and katana . Ishikawa Byakko was a living, breathing anachronism and he was damn bloody proud of it. For too long, he had lived in the shadows, hiding his true loyalties.

"Dumbledore," he matter-of-factly commented, as though they were meeting at a Council meeting.

"Byakko?" was Albus' response. "I see you're no longer disemboweled."

"Yes, had bit of a tummy ache, but now I'm feeling much better," Byakko dryly remarked.

* * *

Bloody hell, bloody hell, Damyan had blithely informed the Order how he had seduced the Headmaster. The Order was staring at him, perceptibly sickened that his foulness had morally corrupted the Headmaster.

And…. And… Katya had FAWKES. The damn Phoenix had recklessly attacked Damyan and now a not-very amused Katya was holding the chick hostage.

"You even think of crapping in my hand, you're dead," the witch informed the Phoenix chick.

Severus was… in _**so**_ much trouble…

The Headmaster and Damyan clasped their right hands while the referees invoked the various dueling rituals. The rites completed, Byakko and Filius spoke briefly before reporting to their corners. Toma and Alastor also left the two combatants alone.

"Really, old chap. This isn't necessary," Damyan announced. "You've never heard that old truth, 'If you love someone, let them go. If Severus returns to you, it was meant to be. If he doesn't, it's because you were an utter arse and you bloody terrorized Severus. You exploited him, Albus. And you let your little Devotees abuse him."

"Keep talking rubbish, Damyan. Hopefully, you'll grow winded," retorted Albus.

"Abus, I'm _**not**_ two hundred and eighty three years old. I can walk and talk and not have to stop for breath. Since we've pretty much said all there is to say, I'll leave you with this. See you in _**hell**_, Albus," was Damyan's rejoinder.

The two mages stood back to back and then, following the referee's instructions, began walking the twelve long steps. That done, they turned to face each other.

And the battle for Severus began.

* * *

Serge the Serbian gestured and there was nearly a pile up of the various international wizards and witches. As it was there, there was a great many stepped on toes.

"Sparks," was his explanation. "Thirteen."

They watched the sparks fly overhead and Serge shook his head.

"Ludamilla. Go to the Bulgarians, warn them that we may have a coven of Gellert supporters," he ordered. "Come now, let's continue."

He ignored the fact that the mood of his intercontinental wizard hunting party had done a one eighty. No longer was it a festive way to spend a Saturday afternoon, chasing down a Foamer. No, now it was serious. In fact, Serge was now the only one that smiled.

He was Russian. That was explanation enough.

* * *

Voldemort was in Manchester. There was a loud explosion and he motioned for his followers to follow him.

Severus Snape was _**dead**_.

He had foiled Voldemort's plans by _**flatly**_ refusing to do what Voldemort had ordered him to do. Yes, Lucius Malfoy claimed that Dumbledore was distracted by Severus' disappearance, but it _**wasn't**_ good enough. He was supposed to have latched onto Dumbledore _**and self-destructed. **_He was_** supposed **_to have brought the almighty Dumbledore down_**. **_He_** wasn't **_supposed to run away and become best mates with one of Gellert's followers.

Truly, it was impossible to find good help these days.

There was a loud explosion in the distance, and Voldemort decided that would be the first location that they checked. There was a great deal of magic concentrate in that area and that usually meant _**DUMBLEDORE**_.

Above him, the sky darkened.

* * *

To Severus' surprise, the two battling titans seemed to be evenly matched. They weren't verbally casting spells, so the only sounds heard were their quickened breath and the _**crack**_ as their spells erupted from their wands.

"Excellent wand rotation," Rada commented in Severus' ear. "I've never seen Damyan perform that parry better."

There was a brief splatter of applause from the various Dark Wizards as Damyan executed a furious series of underhanded castings that knocked Albus on his arse just as the round ended.

"Foul," Alastor called. "Foul, Damyan Draganov. Illegal move. It's been illegal since 1962."

Toma sadly nodded his head in agreement. Damyan growled his disgust and wiped the blood from his eye. "I'm sorry," he spat. "In 1962, I was in Zadar and had to move quickly, Severus. Couldn't keep up with the dueling regs."

"Point for Damyan Draganov however. Dumbledore did step over the line prior to the foul," Toma inserted. "Dumbledore gets the foul when the next round starts. Damyan needs to get his Phoenix induced lacerations reclosed."

Byakko met Damyan at the North location, and did a quick examination of his face, blotting his face dry with a soft cloth. The mage spoke softly to the Bulgarian and continued to hold pressure on Damyan's face.

"Severus, it's going well," Damyan cheerily assured the younger mage. "Don't get nervous, Phoenix scratches always excessively bleed. How's the stupid feather duster doing?"

"Still here," Katya said. "I gave it to Severus to Phoenix-sit. The bird kept glaring at me and I was tempted to wring its bloody neck. Is Birdie still alive?"

"Yes," Severus finally managed to say after they all turned to look at him. He had put the Phoenix chick in one of his pockets so he wasn't required to actually LOOK at the Phoenix. Looking at the Headmaster's Phoenix had reminded him too much of the Phoenix's mage.

"Time for round two," Toma announced.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not having a very restorative interlude between the dueling rounds. Sirius Black had arrived at Piccadilly Gardens along with _**HARRY**_ and assorted other Hogwarts students.

"What are you doing here?" Albus tersely questioned. He had often regretted his too lackadaisical attitude with Sirius Black and Harry Potter, but never as much as now.

"I went after Harry," Sirius Black explained.

"And why are you here, Harry? Do you have permission to be off the grounds?" He tried to keep his voice calm, appropriate for dealing with teenagers and Sirius Black, but he knew he was failing.

"**_Remus_**?" Sirius Black interrupted. He pointed toward Damyan's little covey of Dark Wizards who had their very own silver plated werewolf mascot. "They've got _**REMUS**_? What is he doing here? What does Sniv…. Severus… have to do with Remus? Severus has always hated Remus…"

"Remus agreed to stay out of Manchester while I handled this. I am supposing that your disappearance from Hogwarts was made aware to him, so he went here to find you. Instead of finding you, Gellert's Brotherhood found him," Albus explained.

"So Gellert's Brotherhood has Remus and Minerva," Sirius began.

"And _**Severus**_. At this time, I believe him to be a hostage," Albus retorted.

"They've got Remus, Minerva and Severus. Anyone else?" Sirius Black asked.

"Fawkes," was Albus' regretful admission.

"_**FAWKES**_!" was the disbelieving chorus. "Well, what are we going to do about it?"

"_**I'm **_dueling right now," explained Dumbledore. "_**You're**_ going back to Hogwarts. You've done quite _**enough**_ to help this situation. I truly lack the words to properly thank you for your help. Now go."

His dry wit was completely lost on them. Minerva would have gotten it. Severus would be rolling his eyes at their obtuseness.

"Is there anything else I'm not aware of?" Sirius Black asked. "We've got Minerva kidnapped by Severus' new best friend, who you don't believe is Severus' new best mate. Fawkes is also a captive. What else is going on?"

Hestia Jones inserted herself in the conversation. The witch still looked disturbed by something and she placed her hand over Sirius' mouth.

"Please, don't ask that. You wouldn't be able to handle it," the apple cheeked witch informed Sirius. "Trust _**me**_. Please, Albus, don't answer that. He doesn't really want to know the answer."

"Time for round two," Toma announced.

Bloody hell, Albus hadn't gotten a chance to catch his breath. He hadn't gone all out against Draganov as Albus had a sneaking suspicion that shattering Damyan Draganov into a million pieces wouldn't help his case with Severus. Still, he had worked up a sweat as Damyan was exploring his defenses, attempting to find Albus' weaknesses and exploit them.

How badly did Fawkes scratch Draganov? The wounds had reopened once more and there was blood seeping out of the wounds.

Really, he was too damn old to be dueling. At least, there was a nice breeze to keep everything cool.

He fired off the first spell due to Damyan's flagrant foul of the previous round and then the duel was on. Albus lost himself in the casting of spell and counterspell when the round was paused by Alastor.

Albus blinked and then realized that there was an international conglomerate of assorted Wizards and Witches. Serge from Siberia seemed to be the defacto leader of the ragtag group.

"I don't believe that the 227th edition of Iannes and Mambres' _Handbook to Duels_ handles this sticky wicket," Toma announced. "Perhaps Master Flitwick or Brother Byakko might be able to offer some sort of precedence for this?"

"Jeonji of Baekje's _Thesis on Armistices_ had a brief paragraph that covered this," Filius suggested. "It really depends on who this third army's loyalties are directed. Serge, you interrupted a duel between Albus and Damyan Draganov."

The Siberian's face darkened at the mention of that name.

"We're following the traditional armistice until the match is over. Do you wish to break the cease fire?" Filius questioned.

"_**No**_," The Siberian growled. "I know damn well that I break the cease fire, line three of paragraph five of the Thesis requires that both of your armies come after _**my**_ group. Albus? Do you mind if my group joins yours? We will follow your lead until the duel is over."

"Agreed," Albus stated.

The International wizards and witches merged into the Order formation, leaving the Dark Wizards unhappy with the number discrepancies.

"Shall we start this again? Albus is getting years older by the minute," mocked Damyan.

The two wizards walked back to their respective corners. They turned to face each other and they raised their wands.

"On three," Alastor announced. "One…. _Two_…."

Both Wizards began to mentally cast their spells when Alastor called a cease-fire.

Voldemort had just arrived in Piccadilly Gardens.

* * *

After Voldemort's arrival, Severus realized that he was no longer just merely trapped between Scylla and Charybdis, now Poseidon had decided to rise from the ocean depths to make an appearance.

"Don't inhale," Katya informed him. She broke two vials and then counted to five. "Ok, safe to breathe now."

"Good Afternoon, and who might you be?" Damyan asked. His attempts at being charmingly cheeky were ruined by the blood draining down his face.

Obviously that was not the reaction Voldemort was expecting. He was use to false bravo and terrified squeaks for mercy when he arrived. Not complete ignorance.

Damyan looked at Albus and stage whispered, "Did you shag him too? I'm detecting a great deal of sexual tension and unresolved animosity between you two."

"Good afternoon, we're in the midst of a duel between Albus and Damyan. As per Jeonji of Baekje's _Thesis on Armistice, _when a new army comes across the armistice, they have several options," Byakko explained, as it seemed that he also had a short fuse for Damyan's cheek. "You may go."

"I'm here for Severus," explained Voldemort. "I'll leave after he's dead."

Minerva and Katya bumped into each other as they moved to stand in front of Severus. The two witches stared each other down and then nodded their heads, deciding to stand side by side to defend Severus.

"Very well. You don't wish to leave. You may join either one of our armies," Byakko continued.

"I work alone," was Voldemort's response.

"One of our armies could join yours," Byakko stated. "We currently have sixteen of Gellert's followers here. We wish to take a more active role in current events. Perhaps, we could join your army. We could turn Severus over to you."

_Oh, bloody hell. __**I TRUSTED YOU, DAMYAN. I TRUSTED YOU!**_

"I don't really need sixteen geriatric wizards." Voldemort's tone was dismissive. "I see no reason why I can't simply take Severus from you."

Byakko nodded his head once in acknowledgement of that basic truth.

"Perhaps, you may wish to change your mind about an allegiance, after a brief demonstration of our abilities. Damyan? If you would, please?"

The Bulgarian, who Severus had bloody _**trusted**_, who had _**betrayed**_ him and ARI, like _**everyone**_ _**else**_ had in his _**miserable**_ life, lifted one hand and gestured.

Nothing apparently happened and Voldemort smirked. Then when he heard the murmur of confused comments coming from Albus' army, he turned to face his followers. There were now thirteen Albuses sprinkled amongst his followers.

"Severus," a blood splattered Damyan explained. "Vengeance is _**mine**_; I will repay in tenfold, saith the Dragon. Remember, Brother, I was the one that avenged you. Not Albus, he couldn't be bothered. I know Minerva stayed her hand only in the hopes that Albus would avenge your injuries."

Then with a casual wave of his hand, he killed the Death Eaters that had violated Severus. Their deaths were slow and painful, as Damyan knew how to heal, and how to kill little by little. Voldemort did not make any effort to save his personnel which seemed to truly offend the Dark Wizards.

"And the other option is," Byakko said to Albus. "Is that our armies join forces temporarily to rid ourselves of that _**monstrosity**_. Agreed?"

Albus nodded his head once. The French began protesting, as did the Russsians, Czechs and Bulgarian aurors. The British also whinged that Albus had no authority to make an alliance with Gellert, but their protestations were silenced when Gellert's Brotherhood Apparated in the midst of Voldemort and his Death Eaters and began energetically turning the Death Eaters into chum.

And the battle began, Gellert's Brotherhood joining forces with The Order of the Phoenix and Serge's International Confederation of Wizards while the storm clouds continued to gather over Manchester.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N – since I didn't want to spent six months of your time making you endure a camping trip with Severus, Minerva, Voldemort, Damyan, Katya and Albus sharing a tent, roasting marshmallows and singing "Row, Row your boat", I've decided that there are in fact, only three Horcruxes.

Not Seven.

The diary, Harry's scar and Voldemort.

If you wish to go camping for the other four Horcruxes, please go right ahead.

Thnxs to T for her help on this chapter.

* * *

Ragnarök.

It was the end of the world, Severus knew. The battle lines had been drawn between the good, the bad and the… merely misunderstood.

He bit his lip so not to giggle. Wouldn't want anyone to think he was cracking up.

It was almost comical. The Order and the Europeans were a mob of unruly wands, the Dark Lord's followers … well… they were looking toward the Dark Lord for instructions. Meanwhile, the Brotherhood was in picture perfect formation. After all, they had fifty years in the shadows to practice avenging their embarrassing defeat when their warlock had tripped over a pebble. Three groups of three stood in a line, with the fourth troika standing guard behind them. The Japanese Warlord, Ishikawa Byakko was loudly counting, "Ichi! Ni! _**San**_!"

On the count of three, the Brotherhood cast. A row of Death Eaters went down, body parts flying. Blood arched and sprayed in the afternoon air. The Dark Lord seemed unaffected by the massacre, believing that those so easily killed weren't worth sobbing over.

And Severus Snape watched the carnage while his two personal Valkyries stood guard. Well, he struggled to watch. And to comprehend. After all, he was the soul responsible for this perfect magical storm, but his soul was still adrift, floating between the then and now, the past and the present.

"_You disgust me." _ _The Headmaster's voice cut Severus to the core. He had come to The Headmaster's for help, seeking a way to save Lily. She had been his friend… his only friend… for so long. Yes, he wanted Lily safe. He didn't care about that bastard James. Just Lily._

Damyan Draganov, no longer hiding behind his false persona of a Manchester shop owner, seemed quite as ease at being the epicenter of a magical maelstrom. He was wand to wand with Lucius Malfoy and he was broadly grinning. Severus observed that Damyan appeared as feral as Remus Lupin during his metamorphosis.

Should that horrify him? That Draganov was berserking? Because of him? He should feel something… shouldn't he? Was his inability to feel a sign of a mental defect? That Severus Snape was witnessing Ragnarök and he felt… nothing.

"You're Malfoy," Draganov stated. "I have so desired to make your acquaintance."

"So, you're the foamer," Lucius dismissed the older mage.

The two wizards gave each other an appraising eye, and then began casting. Lucius, far too comfortable in his ability, swiftly had the painful realization that Damyan was easily his match in skill and ability. The platinum haired Death Eater was energetically casting, yet Damyan was shattering his spells. If anything, the other mage was merely toying with him. It was… a unique experience… for Malfoy as he was used to bullying and intimidating his opponents. Damyan had taken Malfoy's measure and seemed distinctively unimpressed.

"He thought you were his friend," Damyan reminded Lucius. "Yet, you let them do _**that**_ to him. I believe I have a different perspective on what friendship is. I heard his fever dreams, how he hoped that you would help him. Instead, you refused to aid him. Yes, you didn't take part in what happened, but you also didn't stop it."

Severus shivered. He closed his eyes and exhaled, not wishing to remember.

The dirt… the pain… the… the… Headmaster… stroking his hair… his fiendish smile…

_**No!**_

Damyan hooked his hand and motioned. A compelled Lucius twisted and arched, standing on his tiptoes. Malfoy's wand fell from his hand and there was blood was trickling from Lucius' nose. Malfoy's blue eyes were wild in fear as he realized that no one… _**no one**_… was coming to his aid.

"I could never think of advancing _**myself**_ at the expense of a friend," Damyan patiently informed Lucius. The Bulgarian sounded a great deal like Filius instructing one of his more thickheaded students. "Always, Severus, set a high value on spontaneous kindness. Remember my brother, he whose inclination prompts him to cultivate your friendship of his own accord, will love you more than one whom you have been at pains to attach to you. Samuel Johnston, an eighteenth century wizard. Alchemist and Potions Master."

He continued to hook his hand, calmly watching Lucius Malfoy contort and twist in the breeze.

"Severus? Should I kill him?" the Bulgarian asked Severus. His tone was perfectly reasonable, as though he was asking Severus to pass him more monkshood.

Severus thought of Draco and Cissy and said not a word. For all of Lucius' many faults, he was _**still**_ loved. Lucius' wife and son both loved Lucius, which were two more people than Severus had. Cissy and Draco had helped him escape from Hogwarts and he should say something… do _**something**_ to prevent Lucius' death.

As though he had heard Severus' unspoken thoughts, Damyan nodded his head once.

"Very well, I won't kill him. Instead, I will gift him with _**comprehension**_," Damyan finally decided. "You will understand firsthand what your silence did to Severus. Remember, Malfoy, friends always show their love. What are brothers for, if not to share troubles?"

With a quick gesture from Draganov, Lucius collapsed to his knees as though he had been hamstrung. He put his hands on his head and began screaming while he began to experience Severus' trauma.

"Proverbs 17:17," Damyan instructed Malfoy. "Perhaps you should read it? After you stop screaming, perhaps?"

Malfoy continued screaming. Severus turned his face away from his erstwhile friend as Lucius was clawing his face. Really, Ariana was far too young to experience _**that**_…

"_**Weak**_," a disgusted Damyan growled as he soundly kicked the shrieking Malfoy out of his way. For good measure, he savagely kicked the downed Malfoy repeatedly. "He was too weak to defend you and he's too fragile to face your experience head on like you did. Lucius Malfoy, you must learn to endure the unendurable."

Severus couldn't listen to Lucius scream. He sent his soul far, far… away… to an alleyway in Manchester.

"_Who are you?" Severus gasped. He pulled away from her as his stomach began to rebel once more. It would do him no good to vomit on these two strangers. Where the hell was he? He had arrived in an alleyway. But where? Eastern Europe?_

"_I am Oxana, the rather uncouth fellow is Sasha. Can you stand, Adrik?" Oxana questioned._

"_Yes," he assured her, but Sasha decided to handle matters in his own unique style._

"_I just read your chakras, Adrik, you're too weak to stand. Put your arm around my neck," he stated. "I'll carry you."_

_Severus did so, and then Sasha slid his arms under Severus' body. The older man was stronger than Severus expected, as he was able to easily pick up Severus._

_What luck it had been, to land in that alleyway. To find a Healer… to find… friends…_

Albus was busy casting. He needed to _**protect**_ Minerva and Severus but the bloody Bulgarians, Czechs and French had their own goals. They wanted to go after the _**Brotherhood**_, to hell with _**Voldemort**_. His alliance with them was paper thin at best as the Europeans failed to realize that Voldemort was the greater danger.

Gellert was in prison. Sixteen mages, no matter how towering their reputations, were of no consequence compared to Voldemort.

It might be a different matter if Gellert was free. But they needed to stop licking their damn wounds, stop reliving their losses to Gellert and fight the more pressing danger.

But Severus… his eyes were so damn glassy, and he just seemed… completely out of it. What was the matter with him?

And a vacant Severus watched while the Headmaster stabbed, slashed and cut with his wand, knowing that the Headmaster was coming… _**for him**_. It was time for the miscreant Severus to be punished for fleeing, for causing this conflagration.

He'd be so bloody furious with the reprobate. To actually flee from the Headmaster and to find sanctuary with a Dark Wizard?

What… what… what …would the Headmaster do to him? His transgressions had gone so far beyond mere verbal reprimands…

_The Headmaster_ _threatening him._

"_But, Severus, you have failed to address one very important issue. What if I'm the true father? What if Poppy discovers that the baby was in fact, created on Christmas, on the night when I took an inconsolable boy to my bed? Do you believe that I will simply step aside and let you flee to Spinners End? Do you think that I will not claim my rights? If necessary, I will go to the Wizengamot, and argue my case."_

Rodolphus and Rastaban LeStrange having found their 'nads after the death of Bellatrix, went down with barely a whimper . Severus remembered the LeStrange brothers, how they had been such fierce Quidditch players at Hogwarts. He should feel something… something… rather than… nothing… shouldn't he? Rodolphus had shown him how to ride a broom, had been friendly to him at Hogwarts. Now they were both dead thanks to the hawk-nosed Rada.

_His first day working at the shop. He needed to pay for his care. "You're __**late**__," Sasha growled. "I expected you thirty minutes ago. I will not tolerate __**tardiness**__. Your tools are over there, so set up your work station and be quick about it. You have to get off your lazy arse and start earning your keep." Yet Katya's creative accounting had given him a small stipend… and let him keep his pride. He had to work, and work bloody hard, but both Damyan and Katya worked just as hard. _

_Teaching Damyan and Ekaterina how to fly. _

_Damyan deliberately pretending to be slower in grasping the concept just so Ekaterina could be one up on him. Yes, Damyan grumbled and growled, but he was also a respectful student when Severus was teaching him. _

There was a scream of "_**HARRY**_!" that sounded a great deal like Sirius Black bellowing. Harry Potter._** HARRY BLOODY POTTER WAS IN MANCHESTER. **_The Headmaster would so be beyond furious. Instinctively, Severus searched for the damnable boy he had sworn to protect. Yes, there he was, surrounded by his young friends. They looked excited and happy, as they were too bloody thick to realize that they should be scared.

_He'll be so angry with me. He'll be so angry with me_, his mind sing-songed. _I was supposed to keep Harry safe. I was supposed to do everything the Headmaster wanted, without question, without protest. The presents. The new clothes. The books of arcane knowledge. The Headmaster's overwhelming generosity. _

_They were just sweeteners so I'd behave, that I'd do everything The Headmaster wanted me to do. I was supposed to keep Potter SAFE. He'll blame me. He'll blame me as this is my entire fault._

Damyan was cutting a wide swath through the battling wizards, easily taking out everyone in his path.

_Don't be afraid, Ariana. Your godfather Damyan has a bit of a temper issue, but he loves you. He'll keep you out of harm's way…. He loves you almost as much as I do, but not as much as I do. For you must know, Ariana, no one will __**ever**__ love you as much as I do. _

Draganov wasn't so much mad… as… _**manic**_. He was all but gibbering incoherently, but he was creating spells on the spot. Horrible spells that tore and shredded anyone stupid enough to stand in his way.

"_The only true difference between the almighty Dumbledore and Draganov the Foamer is that he __**won**__. He wrote the history books, Severus. If Gellert hadn't tripped, a new world might have been born on that fateful night. Perhaps, I might even have been considered the hero and Dumbledore the dangerous madman." _ _Damyan heartedly laughed._ _"Though I'd certainly make an effort to dress to impress."_

No. There was a difference between the two men.

The Headmaster knew best. He grew annoyed when his minion Severus disagreed with him, because he was bloody Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore … and _**he knew best**_.

Not so Damyan.

He grumbled. He growled. He made caustic aspersions on Severus' intelligence and the lack of it when Severus did something that Damyan didn't want him to do. However, he let Severus make his mistakes. Made him stand on his own two feet. Took an almost paternal pride in Severus' accomplishments, especially the ones where Severus had the bollocks to disagree with him and had been proven correct.

"Watch Wolfie," Toma ordered Ekaterina. He threw the silver leash to the witch and she gingerly grabbed it. The half-giant mage Disapparated and then appeared next to Harry Potter. With a speed that belied his large frame, he grabbed Harry Potter and disappeared once again.

"Otoko no ko ga imasu!" That loud command in Japanese was a signal for the Brotherhood to retreat into a square formation. Damyan was in the middle of the Brotherhood as was the Japanese warlock. To Severus' horror, Harry Potter appeared there also, struggling against the half-giant's grip.

"There is the boy," Katya translated.

Really, did they really need Katya to interpret? It was pretty obvious that the Boy Who Lived was now neck deep in Poo.

"Bloody hell, they've got Harry." Minerva was quite worried about her young lion. "_**Why**_ do they have Harry?"

Katya glanced at Severus. It was a quick, inscrutable look that Minerva failed to notice and then the witch shook her head. "I have no idea."

_Bloody hell_, she was lying. Severus knew that she was lying. Candid, blunt Katya was _**lying**_. Her personal loyalty was to Damyan, not to the Brotherhood, not to the Order and to no one else.

Toma pulled Harry's hair away from his face and Damyan placed his left index finger on the lightning shaped scar, tracing it, memorizing it, understanding it. The damn scar. That bloody, bloody scar. The Bulgarian _**knew**_, understood what it represented, comprehended that Harry was a bloody living Horcrux.

How the bloody hell did Damyan _**know**_? Severus had put the pieces together on his own, because the Headmaster hadn't trusted him with the truth. When the Headmaster had realized how much Severus knew, Severus had pledged not to tell anyone.

Swore it on his soul.

Hadn't the bearded figure been the Headmaster?

Or had it been when he was being held by the Dark Lord… or had it been when he had been feverish after collapsing in the Manchester alleyway? Severus had so many dark memories where he had pleaded with the Headmaster, reassuring him of his continuing loyalty, how he'd keep his secrets, pleading with the Headmaster not to hurt him. Had the Headmaster been… _**Damyan**_?

Merlin's scrote, he had assured the Headmaster that no would ever know about what had happened between them. Yet, everyone seemed to _**know**_ that the amalgamation of assorted Albuses had ridden him like a second hand Nimbus 1900.

Damyan who now knew everything Severus had speculated regarding Voldemort and Horcruxes. Which meant the Brotherhood and Gellert also knew. That's why the Headmaster had kept him locked up at Hogwarts…instead of permitting him treatment for his trauma… because … he knew too much.

Because Severus couldn't be trusted to stay loyal.

Because Severus couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Because Severus was the twisted soul whose measly existence had caused this supernatural confrontation.

The Bulgarian put the palm of his right hand on Harry's forehead, gestured toward Voldemort and dramatically intoned, "What therefore God hath created, let not a wizard put asunder."

There was a crack of lightning, the wind began picking up and Damyan gestured toward Voldemort.

"_**E pluribus unum!**_ I command you to _**be whole**_!"

The Headmaster was staring at him. _**HIM**_. His face was expressionless, but Severus Snape knew that the Headmaster was bloody furious.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore realized that he had no bloody clue what the hell to do. Such uncertainty was a rather unique feeling for a wizard of his many accomplishments. It was a sensation that he would have savored just for its rarity if it wasn't for the fact that everything was going to hell. The International alliance of wizards was fraying as they couldn't agree on their common enemy; Harry was face to face to Draganov who was surrounded by his bloody brethren. It appeared that the Brotherhood knew about his suspicions about Harry being a living Horcrux. But he had never spoken of his concerns to anyone, including Severus.

But Severus was bloody brilliant. How often had the younger man surprised him with a keen, biting observation? So, yes, it was possible that Severus had realized the significance of the lightning bolt shape scar.

Three Horcruxes.

A soul slivered into three separate pieces.

The power of three, a sacred number, a holy number. The diary, which had been destroyed by a basilisk tooth, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and Voldemort himself.

Had Severus informed Damyan? Had he exchanged that information for the protection of the Brotherhood? Albus ignored the mocking voice in his head that suggested that Severus had cheerfully shared his suspicions with Damyan. Perhaps it had been when the two men were snuggled together in post-coital bliss, Damyan's hand resting on Severus' swollen belly, enjoying the feeling of Severus and Albus' daughter moving… had a spellbound Severus had a bit of pillow talk with Draganov?

Bloody, bloody hell.

_**Draganov**_. Had he seduced the wounded Severus? With pledges of protection?

Didn't Severus _**know**_? His benefactor had killed his wife and unborn child in a fit of pique.

Did Severus believe that he was _**safe**_? Or did he view Damyan as the thinnest of reeds to keep him from drowning? Severus looked so damn glassy-eyed. Yes, it was glamour, but he looked… bereft.

As though he was completely adrift in the sea.

_"For Severus, you are the sea crashing down mercilessly on the shores. He's struggling for all he's worth to tread water right now, Albus. His head is barely above water and he fears that he'll drown when the next waves overwhelms him." _Minerva's voice echoed in Albus' head.

A rudderless Severus, completely incapable of charting his own course, battered and bruised by the whimsy of others, viewed his savage savior as a better alternative than Albus Dumbledore.

Harry began screaming which distracted Albus from his musings. To his unease, the Brotherhood had retreated into a tight phalanx, their wands at the ready. That damnable boy was in the middle of the mass of mages, and Albus cursed Harry for not having stayed at Hogwarts.

"_**HARRY**_!" screamed Sirius. In a foolish act of defiance, he began attacking the Brotherhood. The Europeans, believing the alliance crumbling, also began milling around the Brotherhood.

There was a crack of lightning, the wind began picking up and Damyan gestured toward Voldemort.

"_**E pluribus unum!**_ I command you to _**be whole**_!"

Something opaque was released from Damyan's hand and it gently floated toward Voldemort.

* * *

Voldemort stood amongst his Death Eaters, watching the confusion unfold. Brusquely, he had ordered the leStranges to their deaths and commanded that no one rescue Lucius. Instead, he commanded Fenir and his pack of werewolves to attack the Brotherhood. The Wolves were so far gone in their madness and transformations that they were, at best, Wolves that walked upright. Their humanity was so far gone that they couldn't even cast a single _nox_ spell.

The Wolves were completely untrustworthy, and liable to turn on him at any moment.

Use them as wand fodder, Voldemort easily decided. Hopefully they'd make a sizeable dent in the opposition's forces. Their instructions were simple, get rid of the Foamer and the Japanese warlord. Voldemort doubted that the Brotherhood would still stand shoulder to shoulder without their Foamer and their General to motivate them.

The Foamer who had managed to screw up his plans by hiding Severus, gestured toward him. His magic was weakening; his rage-induced strength was quickly fading. Nothing Gellert's mad dog was capable of producing would hurt him, Voldemort knew. He was indestructible, his soul safely split into two. And it was highly doubtful that Dumbledore would allow _**anything**_ to happen to Golden Boy who housed his soul.

What was the madman casting?

What had the Foamer released?

A _**soap bubble**_? It wasn't even worth the expenditure of energy to step aside, but still Voldemort ordered his followers to renew their attack against the Brotherhood. Several of the mages had already fallen, the rest were doomed as they had retreated back into a tight formation. It was only a matter of when, not if, they were broken, trod beneath Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort was still laughing when he felt the bubble break, and two estranged elements of his severed soul began to merge.

He was… _**mortal**_… once again.

Dumbledore hadn't rescued the Boy Wonder. Hadn't blinked an eye when the Brotherhood had captured him.

Instead, he had been focused on _**Severus**_. The damn baby. And now an enraged Dumbledore was coming after him.

The only mage that Voldemort had ever feared… was coming after him.

"_**Angriff!" **_was the next command from the Japanese warlock. The Brotherhood turned as one unit and began heading towards him and his mage fodder collection of Death Eaters. And the magic blitz began anew, the Brotherhood uncaring that the entire battle had turned and now they were the hunted.

No, they had one _**goal**_, to get rid of him. That's the agenda that they had focused upon, the be – all and the end - all of their existence. Let the Europeans attack them, it mattered not to the zealots.

As instructed, Fenir and his group of werewolves still attempted to overwhelm the Japanese armored anachronism. Idiots, they thought he'd be easy pickings, one lone mage against a werewolf so only Fenir went after him. Instead of hamstringing him, the chastened Wolf was being taught to heel. Liberal applications of a silver cudgel and a wildly swinging silver chain kept Fenir at bay.

He wasn't even using MAGIC on the werewolf, as though Fenir wasn't worth the energy. Just simple brute force, a swinging truncheon and a metal rope!

Fenir's adverse reaction to silver and the accuracy of the Japanese mage's strikes had the Wolves cowering and recoiling from the mage.

_**COWARDS!**_

A few of his callow Death Eaters upon realizing that the tide of the battle had turned, scattered and ran. The cowards and the frightened Wolves were cut down in mid-stride by the Order and the bloody Brotherhood. With Albus Dumbledore coming after him for some personal attention, the Dumbledore devotees were under the command of MadEye Moody.

_**Damn Albus. Damn him and bloody Severus to bloody hell. **_

He'd rip that baby from Severus' belly.

* * *

The Bulgarian was tracing Harry's scar. The feel of his fingers running up and down the lightning bolt scar was not just physical. There was a psychological sensation to it, as though his soul was being prodded and manipulated.

"This will hurt," the brusque Bulgarian tersely informed him. "His soul apparently doesn't like him very much, so it's conglutinated itself to yours. Made itself a nice, cozy little nest in your spirit. I'll just have to play with the edges for a bit, and then I'll pull."

There was an agonizing amount of pressure, all concentrated along the length of his scar.

"Stop screaming," Damyan told the shrieking teenager. "Yes, I know it hurts but I figured you wanted to get rid of your little invisible friend. You remember him, the psychopath that lived in your scar? Haven't you ever ripped off a scab? It hurts but it's a good pain."

Harry Potter continued his eppie and finally a rather non-sympathetic Damyan had enough. "Go to sleep. When you wake up, you'll be fine. Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on how deeply rooted he was in your brain. You might be left with the mental capacity of a bowl of mushy peas, but really, it's better than having him in your head. You'll thank me for doing this."

"Dog Father! Twelve paces," Toma informed Damyan. "Shall I?"

"_**Please**_," the Healer politely requested. His hand was still on Harry's forehead and he was concentrating on severing the two souls. "Rather busy at the moment."

"Delighted," the gracious giant answered. With a quick gesture and a guttural growl, he cast his spell.

His Hex wasn't so much a physical attack. That was what Sirius had prepared for, what he had shielded himself against. The Dog Father was prepared for the Unforgiveables, for an Avada Kedavra , a Crucio or even an Imperio.

What he didn't expect, was _**empathy**_.

An overwhelming empathy that overwhelmed him and plopped him into one man's recurrent nightmare.

_Sirius was in the Shrieking Shack and Remus was racing to meet him. Not his best mate Remus, but the raving, foaming Wolf. He couldn't turn, he couldn't turn into Padfoot and Remus was coming… was coming for him… the Wolf was launching himself at Sirius… Falling onto the ground, he felt Remus' jaws on his throat, ripping and shredding his throat._

* * *

With a suitably dramatic quip, as Damyan knew his flippancy was truly irking Dumbles, he released the Monster's soul back to him. Then he took a deep breath that he hoped no one saw. Really, Damyan was quite knackered as his energy was fading. He pulled upon the nodes, yanking their power into himself, tapping off his personal magical reservoirs. Tapping? More like doing a complete refill as his strength was nearly completely gone.

When this little argument was done, he'd sleep for a week. Preferably at Rada's beach side residence and Naum could take care of Severus. He'd oversee the lad's care, as well; he had gotten rather fond of the sarcastic git. Would refuse to admit it to anyone, but he had. Severus was like having a grandson, teaching him the proper way to brew potions. What with Severus' arrival in Manchester, his coupling with Katya had deepened into something more. It was almost akin to having a proper family, Damyan believed. Ekaterina, the fuzzies, Severus and the little sprog. Just needed to get Severus hooked up with Naum to make everything perfect.

And having lost his family once, like bloody hell would he let it happen again.

Speaking of Severus, where was he? It was hard to keep track of all the balls he was juggling in the air, but Katya and Minerva were guarding the lad. Hopefully, the two fearsome and redoubtable ladies were keeping him out of trouble as Severus seemed to attract it.

It took him a moment to locate him and then Damyan realized that the Monster was about to direct an Unforgiveble on Severus. Bloody hell, he lacked the energy to Avada the bastard. There was no possible way, not from this distance. Had to be closer. Had to be close enough to touch him. The Bulgarian dropped the Boy That Lived to Whinge Another Day and Disapparated.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, during a magical battle that was duly examined and henceforth exaggerated by all the learned scholars, a single pebble had made all the difference. A mage had miss-stepped, his Hex had gone wide and the world had changed.

Now, as then, the smallest occurrence changed the face of the world. The Dragon was weary, but determined to rescue Severus. He splinched himself, losing his left foot in the process. Yet still he unsteadily raised his wand in one last, Herculean effort to save the strays he had rescued.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore saw Voldemort begin to cast in the direction of Severus and Minerva. The Russian witch had released her grip on an ailing Remus' chain and had given him a physical push to motivate him to escape. The two witches were standing shoulder to shoulder, determined to protect Severus from Voldemort.

No, _no_, _**no**_. Albus Dumbledore had failed Ariana. He had let down his parents. He had disappointed Elphias, Minerva and Severus by not doing enough. By not being properly demonstrative, by not being properly appreciative of what he had been given, by suffocating a traumatized soul.

He was guilty, had always been guilty and would continue to be guilty of failing them.

Not so _**again**_.

He Avada Kedavra'd Voldemort, barely aware of the fact that Harry Potter was also screaming the Hex. There was a crack of lightning, several spurts of green light, and a rumbling noise. Something fell, a body… no… _**two**_ bodies fell.

A _**crack**_? It had sounded like a sloppy Apparition. Had someone _**Apparated**_? There had been at least five magicians casting an Avada Kedavra… had someone Apparated into the middle of that magical mess?

_**Severus**_? Severus was down on his knees, next to the bodies. Minerva was kneeling next to him, speaking to him but Severus was ignoring her. The resolute Russian witch still stood guard against the magical chaos that surrounded them, but she seemed… somber.

"No, no, _**no**_. You _**promised**_." A shocky Severus was insistently insisting to the still form.

The motionless corpse was missing a foot but the Dragon tattoos on his forearm… the long hair…

"You _**promised**_. You _**promised**_ that you'd keep me alive until September. There's no way that I can survive that long without you." Severus softly repeated. "I _**must**_ stay alive as long as I can."

He whispered once more. "But you _**promised**_. Three lousy months… so I could see her…Three lousy months… I _**know**_… it's not your fault… I _**know**_ you wouldn't willingly break your oath. She just needs more time…and now she won't have it."

Severus seemed to have gone astray in the head.

Then with an agility that surprised Albus, Severus got to his feet. His dark eyes were full of an unholy fury.

"_**MURDERER**_," hissed Severus. His finger was accusingly pointed at Albus.

"Severus… he Apparated…." Albus weakly protested. There were so many Curses flying, could anyone be sure who had cast the Killing Curse?

"You bastard," he spat at Albus. "You've _**killed**_ her. You've _**killed**_ Ariana."

A confused Albus looked at Minerva for guidance. Her face was ashen, and her eyes were closed. The Russian witch looked willing to murder him then and there, so there was no help forthcoming from that corner.

"My sister?" a confused Albus asked.

"No, _**my**_ daughter." Severus then lovingly cradled his seemingly flat belly. "Seems you won't be required to play the role of doting papa. We'll both be long dead before she's viable. _**Thanks**_ to you."

Severus laughed then. It was a harsh bitter sound, and a bewildered Albus could only stare at Severus.

"Well, at least you won't have to worry about Ariana's existence inconveniencing you. No meeting at the Wizengamot is required now. Your precious, sterling reputation will be maintained," a chuckling Snape informed Albus. "And now, you'll only need the one grave. In fact, I owe you a great deal of gratitude. _**Thank you, Albus**_."

"Severus?" questioned a shaken Albus.

"I won't have to share her with you. I won't live in fear of the day that you steal her love from me," raved Severus. "With your lemon drops, your vaults full of gold… your purple unicorns. How could I dare hope to compete with _**that**_?"

"I'd never take her from you, Severus. Never," protested Albus. "We'll raise her _**together**_. There will be _**no**_ competition."

"It will be worth it. What the Dark Lord did to me, what _**YOU**_ did to me. Because Ariana will be mine… _**forever**_. _**Never**_ yours… _**only**_ mine. The two of us will be _**together**_ forever."

And Severus continued to laugh.


	35. Chapter 35

Thanks to T for her help.

* * *

"Well, at least you won't have to worry about Ariana's existence inconveniencing you. No meeting at the Wizengamot is required now. Your precious, sterling reputation will be maintained," Snape informed Albus. Severus' voice was strained as though he was on the knife's edge between laughing or sobbing and could go either way. "And now, you'll only need the one grave. In fact, I owe you a great deal of gratitude. _**Thank you, Albus**_."

"Severus?" questioned a shaken Albus.

"I won't have to share her with you. I won't live in fear of the day that you steal her love from me," raved Severus. "With your lemon drops, your vaults full of gold… your purple unicorns."

Minerva attempted to calm Severus who simply wasn't having any of _**THAT**_ nonsense. A dazed Remus had managed to crawl on his hands and knees only a few meters away from the commotion. Albus could only pray that Lupin thought this entire conversation was a nothing more than a hallucinogenic experience caused by his overdose of silver. Not because he was embarrassed about the situation, but because he knew Severus would not be happy if Remus knew about the baby.

"How could I dare hope to compete with _**that**_?" Severus quietly questioned.

"I'd never take her from you, Severus. Never," protested Albus. "We'll raise her _**together**_. There will be _**no**_ competition."

"It will be worth it. What the Dark Lord did to me, what _**YOU**_ did to me. Because Ariana will be mine… _**forever**_. _**Never**_ yours… _**only**_ mine. The two of us will be _**together**_ forever."

And Severus chokingly laughed.

* * *

The battle raged around them. The Death Eaters, upon seeing that their Leader had fallen, seemed determined to suicide in a stunning flambé rather than face a Dementor's Kiss. Meanwhile, Alastor Moody, see that Albus was a tad verklempt by his personal life, had taken command. The retired Auror was shepherding the Order to war with his uniquely Moody mixture of obscenities, astringent observation on their personal shortcomings and more than a dash of acerbity.

"_**ABERFORTH! I've seen goats put more BACK in it! Hestia, grab Black! He's just gone completely undone! Move it, girl, are you planning on waiting for May Day so you can snog him after you rescue him?"**_

However, Albus didn't care about the battle. The bright boy once known as Tom Riddle had long been replaced by a self-styled Dark Lord, so there was no hope for him. Albus's concern was foremost Severus Snape. The man's dark eyes were bright and feral, and he was… _**laughing**_.

Albus wasn't sure what to expect, perhaps a richly-deserved physical pummeling from Severus… but… to be denounced as Ariana's murderer? And not Ariana, as in his sister, but Ariana as in his… their…_ daughter's_ name.

_**Severus, you named our child after my sister? Why? Did you hope that I'd be more… attached… to her? Or is it a blatant reminder of my failings? You and Damyan were lovers… so I'm not sure what your rationale for her name is. **_

Severus' inappropriate laughter required Albus to do something, _**anything**_. Perhaps a Calming Spell? Sedation? However, he had to be careful because of the baby… because of _**Ariana**_. Perhaps, he could calm Severus without the use of magic? Why the bloody hell wasn't Minerva doing _**anything**_? She was so much better at _**emotions**_ than he was.

"Severus," Albus hesitantly repeated. "Are you… _**well**_…?"

Albus' apprehension seemed to enrage Severus.

"We don't have time for this!" Minerva snapped.

"I am quite sane, if that's what you're asking. Also, I am quite well emotionally as it's done, old man." Severus quietly said. "Get yourself a new pet dog. Never again, will I crawl on my belly, begging for a kind word, a pat on my head. I _**won't**_ do your dirty work anymore. You'll have to get your lily white hands dirty."

Severus smiled, however the stranger's face showed no emotion akin to mirth.

"I've stopped hoping… that one day you might look at me with something besides… _**disgust. **_You see, my eyes have been opened. You're no better than I am. The only difference is that you…consistently… _**win**_. "

Again, Severus paused, weighing his words. His face hid his true emotions, but his shaking hands were betraying him. He was bloody frightened as with Damyan dead_**, so was Ariana.**_

"It's amazing, is it not? That the one man who dared to open my eyes to your true nature, now lies dead by your hand?" Severus turned to face Minerva and his voice shook as he warned Minerva. "Be _**wary**_, Minerva. You warned me about him also. I would greatly grieve if you should die before me. Be ever vigilant, Minerva."

Albus swallowed once, then again. There was a great deal of truth in Severus' accusations. Not completely the truth but enough legitimacy in his statements to make them hard to dismiss.

"Severus…" Albus began once again. "I know you're angry with me. You have every right to be angry with me, but please…"

"Spare me your platitudes." Albus flinched from the acid in Severus' tone. "Damyan's down. You've _**won**_. That means that I will freely return to my cozy, gilded, _**padded**_ cell for the few days that remain allotted to me."

"Severus," Albus began.

The Russian witch interrupted, "Your stinking alliance is _**crumbling**_, Albus. They're all going after the Brotherhood. Take a look, damn it. Is there any Auror in Eastern and Western Europe that is actually _**AT**_ their assigned posts? _**NO**_. Even the bloody _**Nurmengard**_ guards are here! They've distracted you and Snake Face, pulled everyone here… _**and**_ _**that's a bloody Brotherhood suicide squad! They're planning on dying and taking everyone with them!"**_

Her face twisted as she fought far too many decades of layered compulsions. Her mouth moved soundlessly and then she screamed her frustration.

"For someone that's supposedly so bloody brilliant, you're a bigger daft prat than Damyan said you were! Can't you _**SEE**_? I can't bloody tell you what you're too thick to realize! Open your bloody eyes, man!"

Severus loudly inhaled.

"He is using me…. To get Gellert … out of prison?" Severus' voice trembled and broke.

Albus' heart skipped a beat when he saw how Severus was affected by that revelation. Yes, Severus was distraught, but somehow … resigned. As though the Dragon's betrayal wasn't truly unanticipated.

Once, many years ago, Albus had seen that identical look on a young man's face. He had worn it when he had the painful realization that the Werewolf who had nearly killed him _**wouldn't**_ be punished. Because the man the young man had trusted… had believed… would do the right thing… _**wouldn't.**_

"I… _**trusted**_… him… He's just like… everyone else…Just using me… because… who I am… what I can do for him… I should have realized. I am a fool!" Severus sank to his knees, his hands wrapped around his belly as though Ariana was the only thing he could believe in. "When will I finally accept that bitter truth? I am a _**tool**_, nothing more and far, far less."

"No," Katya protested. She put her hand on Severus' shoulder to reassure him. "_**Not**_ Damyan. He _**cares**_ for _**you**_. For _**you**_, not what you can do for him."

"No, no, no, I _**never**_ viewed you as a tool," asserted Albus even while Minerva added her own heartfelt protestations.

* * *

Snezhana Ignatieva was the defacto leader of the Brotherhood. After Gellert's humiliating stumble at the Battle She Would Never Acknowledge, as the new First among Equals, it had been her decision to break the Brotherhood into cells. Hide away in the shadows, regroup, reform. Her unwavering goal? To do the unthinkable and break her lover out of _**Nurmengard.**_

She also possessed an analytical mind with a mechanical bent. It had taken the single-minded, stalwart Snezhana far too many years, but she had discovered the single weakness in Nurmengard's rumored impregnable fortifications. The tower cell that housed Gellert? All too vulnerable if one could fly. Couldn't use a carpet, couldn't levitate, couldn't hover… one had to possess a group of powerful mages that could fly and cast at the same time. If hit just so, a small, faultily shielded brick would crumble to dust, leading to an instability that could be exploited.

And Damyan's little stray had given her the ability to rescue her Lord and Master.

It was almost anticlimactic. After so many decades in that damnable prison, the guards had done a runner thanks to the noble sacrifice of the senior most Brotherhood. The noble cadre was creating a significant distraction in Manchester, pulling everyone and then some _**there**_. And the Nurmengard guard had naturally decided to join in the fun. Her spies had informed her that even the damnable Yanks had arrived.

"Stand well back!" She ordered, and then they began to cast.

Gellert's escape was rather anticlimactic, but the look of stunned disbelief on Gellert's face when he saw her fly past his cell window made up for the lack of resistance.

The walls fell easily to the combined might of the sortie of determined wizards and the Brotherhood was soon safely ensconced at Rada's heavily fortified Caribbean island. The newly freed Gellert was emotionally overwhelmed by his freedom. Snezhana loathed leaving him, not now, not after so many years apart, however her Brothers and Sisters were in Manchester and they needed assistance.

"Save my Giant and my Dragon!" Gellert roughly ordered. "My Brothers and Sisters must live so I can thank them for their loyalty and their sacrifices. We will build a new World Order! But we must have Byakko, Rada and the others here!"

Snezhana saluted her Lord, her lover and the epicenter of her life. Then she took her fresh troops, who had been held in reserve, and who had had not flown to Nurmengard. They were the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Gellert's original supporters, so they were eager to prove their worth to the noble cause. They would fight and fight _**well**_ to rescue those brave souls in Manchester. They took their leave even while the remaining warlocks and witches chanted Gellert's name.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Manchester, the magical battle continued unabated. The sheer amount of magic being discharged successfully disrupted the weather pattern of Europe for ten years. Among other issues, it caused an increase in global warming and a permanent change in the flight patterns of mating Western European griffins.

Filius Flitwick and Horace Slughorn were most assuredly not what most young witches would consider Magical Warriors of Universal Renown. They weren't pinup material for hormonal young witches and wizards. Filius was a tad on the short side, plus his dueling career was long behind him. Horace was rather round, his formidable reputation having been made from being a warrior in the battlefield of wine, woman and song.

However, together, in the midst of this magical Apocalypse, they were a Dangerous Duo as everyone daftly underestimated them as… harmless…. Horace was the defensive mage, as he was truly concerned in keeping his hard earned physique in one piece while an enraged Filius was on the offensive. While normally Filius believed himself the equal of many a taller mage, in times like this, he believed it was for the best that most couldn't be bothered to see him. With many a viscious Hex hurled at kneecap height, there were many mages that day who rued underestimating the Dangerous Duo.

Filius gestured and Horace bent his considerable will to creating an Impenetrable Disillusionment Charm. For the moment, they would be safe and sound from the various Charms, Hexes, Sticks and Stones that might be thrown their way.

"Horace? Can you sense the nodes?" Filius intensely asked.

A panting Horace paused to catch his breath, concentrated and then nodded his head. "They've gone wild."

"Building to a crescendo, I'd say," the musical Filius murmured. "Someone is agitating them. If someone drains them to augment their own power, they'd be able to wipe out the entire city of Manchester. Do you see Severus?"

"Yes," Horace puffed. "This way…"

There was a crack of lightning, several spurts of green light, and a rumbling noise in the general vicinity of Severus.

"Whoever just caused that… just _**drained**_ the Nodes," Horace growled. "They're bloody empty."

"They're not just empty, they're bloody _**destabilized**_." Filius took off at as fast a canter than he could. Times like this he cursed his short legs, but like bloody hell would try to bloody Apparate into THAT magical mess. Node magic! There was a reason why Node Magic had been outlawed eight centuries ago! Because they were impossible to control once they went rogue.

* * *

There was a roar.

A mighty lion's sounding shook the very air itself and Albus was forced to turn from the current crisis to find out what was happening _**now**_. Everyone stopped to stare at the gyrating lion apparition in the sky. Well, not everyone stopped to stare at the sight in the sky; the Brotherhood who had been waiting for this signal, screamed, "_**GELLLLLLERT!**_" and then initiated the next part of their nefarious plans. Hit and run strike guerilla tactics, the various troikas Apparated into the midst of the assorted national groups and began casting. The Dark trios struck hard and fast, before quickly popping into another location.

Albus creatively cursed when he realized that everyone was losing a significant chunk of their forces due to friendly fire.

The French Magische Liga van Defensie were completely barmy, determined to capture the mages that had destroyed their Liga back in 1940's. To bloody hell if they were hitting anyone else with their Hexes. The Americans were uncontrollable as they were having an adrenalin high, the British were panicking as Gawain Robards was shouting nonsensical commands and the Bulgarians and Czechs were heading _**this**_ way… madness and retribution blazing in their eyes, determined to capture the dead Draganov.

Didn't they realize that Damyan was dead?

Or had their sanity been replaced by a blood thirty need for revenge? Albus created a magical barrier around the group surrounding Severus to protect them from rampaging Bulgarians and Czechs. If the Eastern Europeans went up against it, they'd bounce all the way to London. _**IF**_ they were daft enough to try to Apparate through the barrier, it would require split second timing and the luck of Merlin himself.

"Severus, we need to get you out of here," Albus commanded. He raised his wand to create a portkey, but he was stopped by a tall, graying witch.

"No," the Russian witch protested. "You've got to get through me to get him. I don't particularly like Damyan's friends, but I know that I don't approve of your treatment of Severus either. I found him in the alleyway; I know firsthand what neglect he suffered at your hands. From what I've witnessed of Snake Face, Damyan and you, Damyan is the only one that actually cared for the lad."

With a quick gesture from the witch, the Dragon banner righted itself and flew over to her. It planted itself in the ground behind her, displaying its torn and muddy Dragon proudly. Defiantly, she raised her wand.

"I am Ekaterina Sidorova Dobrolubskaia. At one time, I was a proud Russian Auror, now I'm just a speck of dirt beneath your pretty purple boots. Nevertheless, I hereby challenge the grand and glorious Albus Dumbledore to a duel to the death," she crisply stated.

While Katya knew the piss poor odds for anyone stupid enough to face the most powerful wizard since Merlin, she still stood in front of Severus. With her last breath, she would defend the young man. There was no one else, and someone HAD to do it. With Damyan's down and Byakko getting off killing werewolves, that left her.

Katya swallowed once and then whispered to herself, "Bloody hell, Dami, once again, you leave me to pick up the pieces."

"Katya," protested Severus. "_**Don't**_."

"Shut up," the Russian growled. "I'm doing this because Damyan can't and someone needs to put Albus in his place."

"We don't have time for this," Albus echoed that refrain. "We need to get Severus and the baby to safety. There's no reason to duel over Severus. We both agree that Severus needs to get out of here."

Still the witch steadily held her wand, refusing to take back her challenge. Yet Albus saw in the witch's blue-grey eyes that she was bloody terrified of facing him, Nonetheless, she refused to yield. It was a awe-inspiring act of friendship and dedication.

_**Severus, you have found yourself the staunchest of defenders. **_

"We have different ideas on what Severus' safety is," Ekaterina quietly stated. "I know what Damyan wanted. He's the only one that had Severus' best interests at heart in this entire mess. Fight me, or is the great Albus frightened of a Dark Wizard's whore?"

There was a flash and Siberian Serge, the Head Auror from the Russian Consortium of Aurors, appeared inside the barrier. The burly Russian was surprisingly light on his feet as he delivered a high roundhouse kick to Ekaterina's wand shoulder. Somehow defying the laws of physics, he managed to follow it up with a middle-kick complete with an elbow jab to her belly. The witch's wand went flying and she responded quickly by striking back at Serge.

Severus and Minerva protested, but the two Russians continued to fight dirty until they were clinched in position. Ekatya kicked her former supervisor in the 'nads, and in response, he grabbed her by the throat. He had his fingers around her windpipe and he was gently squeezing because Serge knew that the witch would be more focused on breathing than casting one final spell. No matter how good your training was, even though Katya's training had been quite thorough, the overwhelming urge to survive would take precedence. Yet, she continued to struggle and fight despite her disadvantage.

"Yield," he growled. "Or you'll be as dead as you're rumored to be. I'd suggest you don't kick my privates again, Katya. One more boot in the balls like the last one, and I will _**not**_ prevent my hand from tightening. While I'm not planning on fathering any more children, I still it in working order."

Nodding her acceptance of surrender, Katya's acquiescence failed to appease the skeptical Serge. He magically bound and gagged her, and then blindfolded her.

"Ekaterina Sidorova Dobrolubskaia, I hereby charge you with treason, abandonment of your post and physically consorting with the enemy. I am predicting that there are a thousand more charges in your future, but there will be a trial. Understanding that a conviction on any of those charges requires a death sentence, how do you plead?" Serge paused, waiting for a response.

"Do we really have time for this?" Minerva snapped.

"Guilty, I plead Guilty on all charges on which I am accused now, and in the future," was Katya's soft response.

"She's _**not**_ guilty! Katya was jumped in an alleyway. Damyan found her… she was _**dying**_… from a stab wound…he rescued her and Intrinsically Bonded her," vainly protested Severus. "She couldn't escape from him."

The Russian barked a laugh. "Intrinsic Bonding? She wouldn't be this _**calm**_ if she was Intrinsically Bonded. She'd be wailing like a Banshee because Draganov's _**dead**_."

"He modified the Bond before we left the shop," Severus protested. "He said he did. So she wouldn't share his death."

"You're one of Draganov's ilk. Your words mean nothing to me, and your protestations will be worthless to the court," was Serge's terse response. Easily, he physically picked up the bound Ekaterina and threw her over his shoulder. "Albus, I'll contact you when we're having the trial. You'll need to bring your prisoner to us. We'll want his version of the situation, if just for the entertainment value."

"Severus is _**not**_ a prisoner," snapped Minerva even while Albus protested Serge's character assassination.

"Look, Albus, I understand that this isn't easy for you. When one's protégé goes to the Dark Side, it takes part of your soul. I know. Katya was one of mine, you see. She was of the best trainees I ever had. I was the one that sent her after Draganov…because I thought she was ready. As you can see, I was wrong, Albus." The Siberian sounded paternally disappointed.

"No, no," Severus was protesting to Minerva. "She saved my life, Minerva. You know what that really means. You can't just wash your hands of her! They'll _**kill**_ her!"

A despondent Minerva shook her head. "I cannot do anything for her, Severus. I'll go to her trial, I'll be a witness for her, but I can't fight Serge."

"It'll be fair and thorough, whatever happens to her. I promise you that. She was one of mine, and if it comes to it, when the time comes, I'll be the one to execute her. It will be _**clean**_ and it will be _**fast**_," the Siberian explained. He meant to be comforting and reassuring, but Severus was frightened by Serge's easy acceptance of Katya's guilt.

A wild-eyed Severus turned to Albus.

"You've _**won**_. You've bloody _**won**_, Albus. I _**surrender**_, I'll do whatever you want, just don't let them take Katya," pleaded Severus. "She's _**bloody**_ innocent!"

"You'll come back to Hogwarts? Willingly?" Albus asked. "No more running?"

Truly, Albus didn't mean to sound as though he was striking with a bargain with Severus. He just wanted confirmation that Severus would stop running.

Severus was prevented by answering by a loud boom. The detonation rattled the sky and the Earth trembled beneath them. Where once had been a spark, there was a fireball. A bright, burning fireball that broke off into dozens of smaller sparks. They encircled the battleground, going faster and faster. The various nations began ordering a retreat and regroup, but they were faced with the shocking reality that far too many of their personnel were down… by their own wands.

"Not _**more**_ of them," Serge growled. "That must have been one big bloody boulder they hid under."

The sparks fell to Earth, and upon impact, they Transfigured into mages. A hundred or so young wizards and witches, they were stationed in a perimeter around the bloody battlefield. The new arrivals had their wands at the ready and looked eager to fight.

"_**Hold**_!" called out a female voice. "At this time, per the Roberts' Rule of Wizard Warfare, we are requesting permission for the wounded and the dead to be removed from the battlefield. We will walk among you, remove our fallen Brothers and Sisters, and then continue the Battle. Do you agree, Albus? "

"Why the hell aren't you the bloody Minister of Magic?" Serge growled. "Shouldn't they be presenting their list of demands to the _**British Aurors**_? Not the local school teacher?"

Albus ignored the caustic Siberian. He put his wand against his throat and began to speak.

"Snezhana, I agree," Albus' voice thundered. "Take away your fallen and we will remove ours."

The witch began walking toward Albus and she was followed by a young male who was brightly clad in green.

"Lower your barrier," she ordered Albus. "We want Draganov."

Upon her arrival, Snezhana nodded her head once in acknowledgement to Albus, and gestured for the young man to attend to Draganov. He pulled back his hood to reveal possibly one of the most breath-taking men Minerva McGonagall had ever laid her eyes upon. That charmer could only be Naum, the pretty boy that Damyan had tried to entice Severus with.

Fortunately, the boy seemed to possess a brain to match his good looks as his movements were quick and sure. However, Minerva was still hoping that Severus was not intrigued by the brainy and handsome package.

"Naum?" The female witch softly questioned. The Healer shook his head once and she inhaled sharply at his unspoken comment. That done, Snezhana turned around and looked for someone that wasn't there. "Byakko? _**Report**_!"

"Where's his bloody foot?" the Healer demanded. "Accio foot!"

"TOMA! RADA! ILIAS!" Snezhana continued to command a response from her bloody troops.

It was almost comical in a dark, macabre way, the way Draganov's severed foot eagerly bounced and bounded across the battlefield in order to answer its summoner. The Healer shook his head once more and grimaced as he examined it.

"Infected," he hissed. "Not a clean splinch. But that's the least of your worries, my Brother."

He picked up Damyan's leg and attached the foot even while Filius and Horace arrived at the scene. They were both huffing and puffing from their exertions. Their unanticipated appearance caused a wandshy Snezhana to whip out her wand and point it at them. Unlike the others, she didn't lower her wands as she wasn't fooled by a mage's outward appearance.

"Albus… Manchester's _**unstable**_…" Filius gasped. "We need to evacuate."

"_**Immediately**_," huffed a helpful Horace.

"What is this trickery? _**Report**_," tersely ordered Gellert's second.

"Filius? Could you please explain?" Albus politely requested.

"Damyan drained the Nodes," stateda bloody Byakko. He was glassy eyed and unsteadily wobbling on his feet as he arrived. He was being supported by the half-giant Toma.

"Node magic? Why was he playing with Nodes?" Minerva asked. She had a hypothesis _**why**_ as Severus seemed to be in fine physical mettle, despite the chaos surrounding him. But like bloody hell would she tell anyone. She feared a healthy and vigorous Severus would do a runner when he realized that Damyan had played with the Nodes to give him one final gift.

"I don't know," theJapanese warlock explained. "Perhaps a final strike of some sort? But he got cut down before he could cast it?"

The Earth protested beneath their feet. It was a deep groan of fitful irritation, and Albus Peered into the soil, Saw the empty nodes, Felt the resulting collapse of the various tunnels and Sensed the sea rushing in to fill the voids.

"_**Earthquake**_," was his dire assessment, which was chorused by the assorted mages. It was only a matter of when, not if, the earthquake would occur

"We will withdraw and evacuate," Snezhana imperiously decided. It wasn't her country, why would she care if it collapsed into the sea? "Albus can handle this. Toma? Can you Disapparate with Damyan?"

"As always, I will carry my Brother for as long as necessary," the half-giant softly promised. "Though I fear that this will be the penultimate time that I will carry him."

A teary Toma took Damyan's banner down and he tenderly wrapped his fallen comrade's broken body in it. After that, he easily picked up Damyan's corpse, and popped away.

"Damyan's woman?" Byakko politely reminded his commander.

"Damyan no longer has need for his whore to mollycoddle him and appease his bad humor. She's not one of us, she knows nothing of our strategies, therefore they can have her," decided the brusque Snezhana. "Severus?"

Severus was staring at a shaking Katya and he then turned to face Snezhana.

"Damyan wished you to join us," Gellert's second gently reminded him. "Your experiences at the hands of both Dumbledore and the Upsurper have been quite cruel. I can assure you that you would be treated with both honor and respect if you joined our cause. Will you come with me?"

The witch gracefully extended her hand to Severus. In spite of his resolve not to show his emotions, he shuddered. Fortunately, there was a rumble beneath their feet, so it seemed that he responded to that, not in fear of the witch's dead eyes. After the trembling stopped, he had difficulty steadying himself and Minerva grasped Severus' arm to help balance him. Least that was what Severus was supposed to think, rather than the truth, that Minerva had _**no **_intention of letting him go. ANYWHERE.

"No," he rasped. "I'm dying. I'll be dead before September. I'd prefer to die among people I know."

The witch nodded her head once. "A shame, but Damyan feared that you would wish to remain here. Mistreat the dog long enough and he begins to presume it as his due. Albus? I have a message for you from my Brothers and Sisters."

She dramatically paused.

"You're back?" Albus wisecracked, ruining her moment of glory.

"We _**never**_ left," she growled before she Disapparated.

"Bitch," Minerva quipped in the stillness of Snezhana's departure.

"Minerva, take Severus to Hogwarts. Have Poppy examine him," Albus quickly commanded. Time was of the essence, and he needed to think quickly and act faster to prevent a major calamity. But first, Minerva, Severus and the baby needed to get out of Manchester and to the safety of Hogwarts. "Filius, I need you here to help me stabilize Manchester. Horace? Sound the retreat, have Alastor report to me and help Minerva get Severus back to Hogwarts. When Alastor gets here, I need him to confirm if Gellert is still in prison. Meanwhile, Remus needs to be detoxed from the silver, Sirius seems to have gone around the bend, and somebody keep an eye on Harry. Get the students back to Hogwarts, put them in the Room of Requirement as they require a suitable detention. Someone needs to speak with Dora Tonks…carefully advise her of Remus' condition."

"He's not going to Hogwarts, Albus," Gawain Robards, the Head of the British Aurors Department insisted. He was firmly seconded by his sycophant John Dawlish as both men had just arrived at the scene. Naturally, they had delayed their arrivals until AFTER the big, bad Dark Wizards had left. "Severus Snape, you are hereby arrested for breaking your probation. You will be tried, and if found guilty, you will be sentenced to Azkaban. No doubt there will be additional charges filed as we unravel recent events and your involvement. Serge, your prisoner is a vital witness; you will not be allowed to take her off British soil. She will be taken to Azkaban where she will be held."

"No," Serge protested. "She's one of mine. I don't want her there."

"You have no choice in this matter." Gawain informed the Siberian. Serge's lined face grayed as Gawain bludgeoned him with the various international regulations that required Katya's immediate incarceration in Azkaban.

"I know all about your Azkaban," growled Serge. He put one thick finger into Gawain's face. "Anything happens to her there, and you _**will**_ deal with me. I will provide a guard for her."

"Severus is not going to Azkaban," Albus inserted. "I will _**not**_ permit it."

* * *

Once again, other people were fighting his battles for him.

It was time for Severus Snape to defend himself. He felt his child move within him and was overwhelmed by the need to protect her. Yes, he was frightened, but what choices did he have? Either way, he would be caged in a kennel but this way he had a choice on **_which _**kennel, **_which _**jailer.

"Actually," Severus curtailed the looming fight between Albus and Gawain with his outburst. "I much prefer Azkaban to a jolly holiday at Hogwarts. I'd like a cell near Katya, please."

Like he was reserving a room for a jolly seaside holiday. He smiled at Albus. Time to twist the knife in the bastard's kidneys. Twist it _**slowly**_. Savor the sweet sensation of puncturing Albus' pride…. **_Publicly_**, no less.

Albus blanched, and he whispered, "_No."_

"I asked you to help Katya. You couldn't be bothered, so no deal," hissed Severus. Then in a louder voice, he exclaimed, "With a choice between Dementors and Dumbledore, I find that I much prefer… "

He put his hands over his belly, to protect the child he prized more than anything else in the world.

_**Now**_, they'd be together until the very end. It would just be the two of them… no Albus…. just Severus and Ariana… _**together**_…It was right… and it was proper… because he loved her far more than Albus ever could.

"…_**Dementors**_."

Purple unicorns be damned.


	36. Chapter 36

It was time for Severus Snape to defend himself, to steer his own fate. He felt his child move within him and was overwhelmed by the need to protect her. Yes, he was frightened, but what choices did he have? Either way, he would be caged in a kennel but this way he had a choice on _which _kennel, _which _jailer.

"Actually," Severus curtailed the looming fight between the Headmaster and Gawain with his outburst. "I much prefer Azkaban to a jolly holiday at Hogwarts. I'd like a cell near Katya, please."

Like he was reserving a room for a jolly seaside holiday. He smiled at the Headmaster, like a man facing his executioner smiles. It was time to twist the knife in the bastard's kidneys. Twist it _slowly_. Savor the sweet sensation of puncturing the Headmaster' pride…. _Publicly_, no less. Let Albus experience first hand Severus' pain.

The Headmaster… no…_**Albus**_… blanched, and he whispered, "_No."_

"I asked you to help Katya. You couldn't be bothered, so no deal," hissed Severus. Then in a louder voice, he exclaimed, "With a choice between Dementors and Dumbledore, I find that I much prefer… "

He put his hands over his belly, to protect the child he prized more than anything else in the world.

_Now_, they'd be together until the very end. It would just be the two of them… no Albus…. just Severus and Ariana… _together_…It was right… and it was proper… because he loved her far more than Albus ever could.

"…_Dementors_."

Purple unicorns be damned.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was in the fetal position, softly whimpering, while a sniveling Black still continued to scream from whatever Damyan had done to him.

"Minerva, please give the Headmaster back Fawkes," Severus ordered Minerva. He held out his hands to show that they were empty. "He's in my pocket and he should be _just_ fine. He keeps pecking me."

To Severus' lack of surprise, Albus' mouth quickly engaged. Could the man never just shut up? Couldn't he just take his bloody bird and _**leave**_?

"Severus…. I know you're angry…" Albus said. His voice was conciliatory, soothing, as though Severus was merely being an unreasonable, stroppy cow. Yes, as though Severus was merely a toddler, exhausted after having an eppy that had successfully knocked most of Manchester flat.

Oh yes, Severus was furious.

However his anger was mainly directed at the guilty party, that being himself. For his weakness, for his overwhelming desire to throw himself on Dumbledore's mercy, for his obscene need to beg for the Headmaster's forgiveness and his strong wish to return back to his padded call at Hogwarts. Yes, it was a bloody Compulsion, but as Severus savagely reminded himself… Compulsions could be broken; Compulsions could be negated by strong emotions.

Severus' terror regarding the angry Headmaster was far greater than his Compulsion to return back to the Headmaster.

And it even outweighed his fear for Ariana's surival.

But his dread of Dumbledore was almost evenly matched with Severus' darkest horror. If the Compulsions were broken, if he were no longer Compelled to love Ari… the mocking voices inside his head taunted that he would _**hate**_ the child within.

Yet no one truly understood what the Real Dumbledore was like… well… no one on the allegedly good side. Damyan had comprehended even better than Severus what the real Albus was like. The mage had called Severus, Brother… and he had bloody _**died**_ to protect Severus from Albus.

"Headmaster," Severus' voice was quite composed though Severus feared that his hands were noticeably shaking. "Don't you have something more important to do? Perhaps heal Lupin? Save Manchester from imploding on itself? Perhaps you might be willing to do something to shut Black up as I find his screaming quite tiresome. Regardless of what you choose to do, _don't_ do it around me."

Severus tightly hugged himself, as though he was holding himself together physically. Ari, realizing her father was upset, decided to show her support by kicking him most unmercifully.

_All mine, you're all mine, Ari. I don't have to share you with anyone. Until the bitter end, it will be just the two of us. And at the very end, He will be __**there**__, to __**take**__ you from me. You will never know of me, never know how much I wanted you. I wonder… will I see you before I die?_

"Severus, I understand that you're angry with me." Albus' voice was so damn soothing, so bloody reassuring.

What an actor he was! Not good enough, because Severus could taste the anger hidden by Albus' sugar-coated tone.

"No, I'm not Headmaster. I'd be _**angry**_ if I didn't understand you… I'd be so terribly disappointed in you… except for the fact that this… _**all this**_… is _**how you are**_. One cannot expect a leopard to change its spots. My time with dear, dangerously deranged, though now quite _**deceased**_ thanks to you, Damyan has given me much…. Needed… Mental…. Clarity."

An uncomfortable looking Headmaster opened and closed his mouth, not saying a word.

Truly, a discombobulated Headmaster was sight that needed to be savored, Severus admitted.

His defiant mood vanished once the Aurors asked him to hold out his hands, so he could be Collared and Cuffed. They obviously thought him quite the dangerous character if they were doing _that_. By being Collared and Cuffed, he'd be thoroughly magically incapacitated, a minor annoyance, _normally, _but what of Ari? Her very improbable existence depended on magic. She had been created by spells … nourished by enchantments…

"It will alright, Severus. I promise you," Ekaterina softly advised him. "We will _**all**_ be fine."

He caught Ekaterina out of the corner of his eye. The Russian put her hands over her heart once before offering up her own hands to be Cuffed.

Why? Why that strange gesture?

"_**Remember**_…" she mouthed at him.

She was reminding him of the pendant.

Yes, the _**pendant**_. He could feel the weight of it against his skin. Most importantly, Severus felt physically stronger than he had in a very long time. Was it his anger? Ari was certainly far more active than she had been recently… but was it caused by his anger? Or was it… _**vitality**_? Just before Damyan had fallen, he had cast something… _**backhanded**_… towards Severus…towards Ekaterina… Instead of defending himself…the Dark Wizard had given Severus one final… _**magnificent**_… gift.

Severus had bloody gotten Damyan _**killed**_, and yet …

"Severus," the Headmaster's voice was dangerously calm. "If you… should… change your mind… I will get you out of Azkaban. Do not let your righteous anger with me blind you to the facts … It's _**not**_ safe in Azkaban… You need medical care, Severus… "

It was long past time for Severus to remind Albus of a few issues, including the fact that Severus' personal Healer had come down with a serious case of death, thanks to him.

"I had proper medical care. Sadly, you seem to have forgotten the small fact that you _**murdered**_ my Healer…The one who has kept me _**alive**_ for the last few months. I would have been dead by now if I had stayed at Hogwarts."

There.

Severus had scored again. But not on the Headmaster, but on Minerva, who flinched. While she always tried to appear aloof and unsympathetic, she had a kind heart. She'd miss him when he was dead. Mainly because she'd have no one to wager on the outcome of the Quidditch cup.

"Voldemort specialized in deceit, trickery and lies. Just because he said you'd be dead by September, doesn't mean it's true. Proper medical care, Severus, is what you need. You won't get that at Azkaban."

Again, he just sounded so concerned. Like the bugger actually bloody cared.

Truly the Headmaster… no… Albus… No longer would Severus be afraid to use 'Albus'… Albus Dumbledore was no better than he was… he had killed his sister… slept with Gellert…. The glorious Albus Dumbledore rolled around in the mud and the shit just like Severus did. The only difference was Albus Dumbledore arose from the muck with his robe pristine and his reputation intact.

And Severus Snape hated him for that. It was no wonder the Marauders got away with murder….

_Oh my dearest Ari, to think you have the misfortune of having Albus and me as your parents. When I am gone, I beg you to cling to your Auntie Minnie and your Uncle Aberforth. For they're the only decent ones among the entire sorry lot._

Albus mistook Severus' silence as a sign that was weakening, as once again the Victorious Albus spoke. "You need to be under the care of a Healer, Severus."

"Once again, I must remind you that my Healer is _**dead**_ due to you," Severus retorted. "Perhaps you missed him being wrapped in his banner? Being carried off like a great big sack of bloody potatoes by Toma Filipov?"

"Damyan was the darkest of Dark Warlocks," patiently reminded Albus as though Severus was a naughty school boy who had forgotten part of his lesson. "Perhaps, Madam Pomfrey might be a better choice for your Healer."

"She wasn't able to give me my arm back," Severus protested. "She thought I'd be dead by now also."

"Look at me, Severus," Albus demanded. His commanding voice caused Severus to instinctively follow his demands. Their eyes met and Albus' blue eyes peered into his soul.

"I know you're angry with me, Severus. However, I thought we had _**both**_ agreed that _**your health**_ was our primary concern. You will not get adequate care in Azkaban. When your anger with me has cooled, and you realize the truth in what I'm saying, just… say… the word. I _**will**_ hear… _**I will get you out of there**_…"

_**Whether you like it or not.**_ That was unspoken, but Severus heard the threat loud and clear.

The cage was closing around him. Severus was near panic as he felt as though his very air was being cut off. Still, he was determined to not show his fear. He'd keep verbal punching at Albus, until Albus the Saint persona cracked and the monster underneath was revealed to one and to all.

"Listen closely, as I will not repeat myself. The Dark Lord is dead so you don't need me anymore. And I certainly do not need you anymore," Severus tersely reminded Albus.

"Not so," was Albus' rapid retort. "You know that's not true."

"Go to hell, old man." Severus spat that at the damnable Headmaster.

"Severus…" was Albus' low response.

Dumbledore took one step closer to him and Severus' nerves broke as he knew… _**knew**_… that the Headmaster would not tolerate that vitriol from him. Not in front of witnesses. Why had he stepped over the line drawn in sand? The Headmaster would hurt him for his impudence, there would be no one to defend him, to protest… and that meant… Ari… and he _HAD_ to protect her.

Instinctively, he crouched, putting his hands around his belly.

Then…. Then… Albus was touching him; his hands were on Severus' shoulders.

"Listen to me; it'll be alright, Severus. You've been badly hurt and you need to heal."

Albus' soft voice was so gentle and affectionate. As though he truly cared, and that God damn Compulsion to return back to Dumbledore was close to overwhelming Severus' good senses. If he returned, if he allowed the Compulsions to control him completely… Ari wouldn't have to worry that her father hated her… wouldn't have to walk on tiptoes, waiting for the dark monster to explode… But wait… he'd be dead by then…. Why couldn't he bloody _**think**_?

He was completely adrift. His mind was racing and he couldn't bloody think.

"You're angry with me." To his deep shame, Severus had to admit that his tone was quite close to sniveling.

"I am not angry with you, Severus. I'm furious that Voldemort hurt you and I'm livid regarding the manner in which he hurt you. Come back to Hogwarts, we'll talk… get everything as right as rain between us," insisted Albus.

"We talked before and you didn't listen." Yes, that admission was definitely a snivel. Severus could just imagine the contempt on everyone's faces.

"This time, it will be different; you talk, and I'll listen. I'll _**really**_ listen. You can say anything you want and I won't get angry. My dear boy, it's time to stop running from me."

Albus was moving closer to Severus as though the older man wished to embrace him. Severus was weakening, it was only a few moments before he completely crumbled and threw himself on Albus the merciless' non-existent mercy.

"I've been terribly worried about you. I'll do better this time, I swear, Severus. Please, give me another chance. Time is passing and September is getting closer, Severus. I didn't mean to suffocate you; I just wished to reassure you that I'd support you."

They were words he had once longed to hear from Albus, but Severus knew that they were lies. Sweet sounding, honeyed deception was the Dumbledore specialty after all. His fear of Albus threatened to drown him… but he knew… he _**had**_ to escape from Dumbledore… and that meant Azkaban. He jerked away from the too-close Albus and reached towards a startled Gawain Robards.

"Gawain, I'll plead guilty to anything. Just keep _him_ away from me," Severus pleaded to a shocked Gawain. "I'll tell you anything you wish to know, just keep him away. I'll do anything…. just… protect me from him. I want the deepest, darkest, most Dumbledore-proof cell in Azkaban."

And a stunned Albus said not a word in protest when the Aurors Collared and Cuffed Severus.

_**I was right, you don't care. You never did. This was nothing more than a show for the witnesses. A show to demonstrate to everyone how bloody munificent you are. That way you can assure Minerva that you tried, but that I refused your aid. **_

"Gawain." There was steel in Albus' tone. "If anything… _**anything**_… happens to Severus while he's in Azkaban… if he even so much as stubs his toe, I will bring the very walls of Azkaban down in the North Sea. Do I make myself… _**perfectly**_ … clear?"

"You can't go threatening me," Gawain Robards protested. "I work for the Ministry!"

"I'm not threatening you, Gawain. It's a _**promise**_."

* * *

Filius watched the scene unfurl between Severus and Albus and he wished for the patience and understanding needed to resolve the current situation. Or if providence permitted, a Quidditch bat. And while he was wishing for the impossible, a jigger of dragon-blood infused firewhiskey wouldn't be amiss. It had been that time of day, after all, and Manchester still rumbled and groaned underneath his feet.

Nature abhors a vacuum and right now there was a complete lack of leadership among the international mix of wizards and witches in Manchester. The idiots were _**celebrating**_ because the new Dark Lord had been killed and his army defeated, but no one seemed to give a bloody damn that Gellert's people had escaped. The loud raucous party had shielded most of the Albus-Severus raree show from view. Only a few of the Order maintained enough self-control to be interested in the play unfolding before them. Alastor Moody was shaking his head in disapproval at Severus the ingrate's behavior.

_**Prats! Bloody, stupid prats! Gellert is just as bad as He Who Was Just Hit with a half dozen AKs was!**_

"Horace, take the Order back to Hogwarts. Poppy is to sedate Black and start the silver detoxification process with Remus. Hestia, you are to advise Dora Lupin of her husband's condition, but _carefully_. Harry and the rest of the students are to be put into separate detentions the minute they get back to Hogwarts." The done, Filius continued to rattle out various commands.

First and foremost, Alastor was to immediately confirm that Gellert was still in jail though Filius knew the odds were piss-poor.

As expected, Alastor got mulish until Filius chastised him. No one could cut Moody to the quick quite like his former House Head. The lad was reminded that he was a world-renown Auror; his visage would guarantee that he'd get into Nurmengard. Someone needed to find out what Gellert's current standing was! Someone with a brain, someone who wouldn't be mindlessly celebrating the death of Voldemort! And that someone was Alastor Bloody Moody!

What now? What had to be done now? He was just a bloody academic… and bloody hell… Albus was _completely_ undone.

The emotionally disturbed Severus' little performance, the caustic, biting accusations of filicide combined with Severus' overwhelming terror of Albus had completely thrown Albus off his broom. And that had been before the frenzied Severus had convoluted himself into the fetal position, a desperate move to give his child the barest sort of physical protection from Albus' impending punishment.

Yes, Albus had realized that Severus was leery of him, but he hadn't truly _comprehended_ the depth of Severus' apprehension. Severus hadn't just been verbally striking at Albus. It had been a noble, desperate attempt to make it appear as though he wasn't afraid of Albus. That he was in charge of the situation, that he had complete self-control.

His act might have fooled someone who didn't know Severus as well as Filius did, but there had been that moment that crystallized the two men's stressed association. Severus had been horrified that one caustic comment had gone too far; Albus had swooped in, determined to be compassionate and reassuring. To no one's surprise except for Albus, the shattered Severus had panicked into what Filius prayed wasn't a one way broom ride to Azkaban.

Filius couldn't deal with that problem right now. He needed to stabilize Manchester, so he sat on the ground and Viewed the Nodes. A glimmer of silver distracted him, kept pulling his focus from the empty Nodes, so Filius investigated.

It was a bloody silver hairpin with a Russian design, and he reached out for it. At first and second glance, it seemed like a normal hairpin, yet it obviously wasn't. No… _**no**_… it was a nice bit of charm work, a _Paradoxum Nexus,_ a physical manifestation of _Felix Felicis,_ a bloody wildcard thrown directly into the jaws of Fate. Liquid luck… a silver hairpin… the ripples of unforeseen, opportune happenstance would be quite beneficial to Severus. Especially if the young man was in need of luck.

It had been the final, magnanimous gift to Severus from a crazed Dark Wizard.

**_Severus, you have found yourself the staunchest of defenders. _**

With a nimbleness that belied his advanced age, Filius Flitwick got to his feet and ran toward the Russian witch. She and Severus were both kneeling while the various Death Eaters were being Cuffed and Collared. A distracted Gawain was arguing with a furious Albus regarding the definitions of threats and promises which meant that Albus had been a very bad boy. It didn't matter, just as long as their argument kept Gawain distracted.

"Madam," Filius politely said. "I think you dropped this?"

He showed her the pin and her eyes narrowed in confusion, wondering why Filius was bothering to return it to her.

"That's mine," she admitted. "I gave it to Damyan as a token."

"It must be your _lucky_ hairpin," Filius carefully stressed the word. With nimble fingers, he pinned it back in her hair, carefully Concealing it from prying eyes. "Keep it close, Ekaterina. And keep Severus _**closer**_. Good luck in Azkaban. You're going to need it as it's not a very nice place. Remember, good luck is often with the witch who doesn't include it in her plans."

There that's all he could safely say, but it was enough as the tall witch quirked a crooked smile. She understood what he saying and more importantly, comprehended what he wasn't saying.

"I found that my luck was often helped along by a certain Warlock," the witch assured Filius. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you, I'm quite fond of the lad," Filius softly admitted. "He's not so bad, once you rub off the rough edges."

Severus was too traumatized to even give Filius a furious glare. No, the lad was busy looking inward, mentally berating himself for his stupidity.

_**Azkaban! Why the bloody hell did you volunteer to go there, Severus? Are you that afraid of Albus? Have you decided that with your Dark Wizard dead, there is no one left willing to muzzle Albus? Bloody hell, I keep failing you! No more! I will get you out of Azkaban!**_

"Minerva." Albus seemed to have finally won the skirmish with Gawain. In response to his embarrassing defeat, the sulking, hulking Auror roughly pulled Severus to his feet. To complete the charade that he was in control of the situation, Gawain made a snide quip about Severus being far heavier than he looked. "You're to go to Azkaban and stay with Severus during his processing."

The arch of Minerva's expressive eyebrow spoke volumes. About how Albus had cocked up everything, his commanding tone with her and a thousand other issues. Meanwhile Severus and Ekaterina were Side-along Apparated to Azkaban with nary a pop.

"I need to see about getting him out of there. I'll speak with the Wizengamot and with Ms. Dobrolubskaia s involvement, I fear that I may have to go before the International Confederation of Wizards. Manchester is about to fall into the sea, Lupin and Black need medical assistance, someone needs to talk to Dora Lupin, plus those Hogwarts students … what were they doing here? And where have they gone? Plus someone needs to check to see that Gellert hasn't escaped. And I need to take care of Tom's body before someone decides it turn him into an Inferius."

"Most of that is already done, Albus. Though I will need help with Manchester as it's steadily sinking," Filius explained.

But Albus didn't hear him as he was occupied, attempting to convince Minerva to go to Azkaban.

"Minerva, please. I'm juggling as many balls as I can right now," was Albus' soft request. "He _**trusts**_ you. He needs someone there during the Intake Process to support him. It's the only time you'll be able to be physically in the same room while he's in Azkaban. Please keep an eye on him and Ekaterina. I'm not sure if that Russian witch is truly Damyan's prisoner or his devoted detainee but she will be our best witness for Severus' acquittal."

"Acquittal?" Minerva tartly questioned. "For breaking his parole? I think you'd be the best witness."

At the moment, Albus looked ancient, far older than Filius.

"They will charge him with breaking his parole. I will explain in great detail how it is my fault that he broke his parole. However, Minerva, they will charge him with consorting with a Dark Wizard. He was with Draganov for several months and they will most assuredly blame him for the carnage that occurred here. Severus is in a great deal of trouble, Minerva. Somehow, you _**must**_ convince him…"

Albus paused and then a battle weary Minerva shook her head. "That you know best?"

Minerva stabbed Albus in the heart with that acid comment. You couldn't blame her for being a bit short-tempered. She was still recovering from Prague and now this!

The most renowned mage since Merlin appeared to age centuries while Filius watched. It was staggering how Minerva had managed to deeply wound Albus with only two cutting remarks. Yet as Filius reminded himself, the two of them had been lovers and the emotionally reserved Albus had fallen quite hard for the witch. Let everyone else be fooled by Albus' effusiveness, Filius knew it was a bloody act.

It took Albus a bit to recover from Minerva's thoroughly well deserved skewerings. However, he was soon explaining himself to Minerva.

"What I know, Minerva, is that he needs to be _**very**_ careful right now. The Death Eaters will blame him for Voldemort's death and the guards may not protect him. Also find out… if you can… about Ariana. During the physical exam, his unusual circumstances may come to light."

A wild-haired Aberforth Dumbledore arrived next, barreling his way through the celebrating masses. The bartender appeared none the worse for wear, considering he had just survived his second major magical mêlée in less than a week. If anything, he appeared to be extraordinarily pleased with himself. His grin faded when he looked and realized someone…. _**Someones**_…. Were missing.

"Where is he? Where's Severus?" He growled.

Silence.

"You _**buggered**_ it up _**again**_?" Abe roared at his brother. "Where _**is **_he?"

"Azkaban," was Albus' quiet admission.

"AZKABAN!" The younger Dumbledore raised one belligerent fist and he gave Albus' crooked nose a lingering look. Then he dropped his clenched fist in disgust. "You idiot! We lost Da to Azkaban. How much more must we lose?"

"It was his wish," Albus softly protested. "I told him…. He didn't have to go there. One word, Aberforth, one word from him, and I assured him that…"

"You bloody berk, it was a bloody test," spat Aberforth. "You _**failed**_, you self-absorbed idiot. He wanted to see if you'd actually make an effort."

"Abe," was Albus' soft protest. "I have no idea what Severus wants. I'm sorry, Abe, but it's true. He has to come out and tell me what he wants. I can't figure out what he wants when he doesn't say it! Right now, unfortunately, I have other concerns. Filius, let us see if we can save Manchester from falling into the sea."

Albus Dumbledore walked away from his brother, and Minerva put out her hand to stop him.

"I'm sorry," Minerva softly whispered. "My comment was cruel."

"Don't be," was his response. "Don't ever apologize for speaking the truth to me, Minerva. Among other thing, I deeply value your honesty. Now get to Azkaban and do what you can to protect him."

* * *

It was chaos.

It was hell.

It was an overwhelming, despairing darkness and it was still only a holding cell in bloody Azkaban. Severus had been there once, for a brief time, when he was younger and stupider. Albus had spoken for him, had gotten him released on parole and… bloody hell; Severus had buggered it all up by running.

Some God or Goddess was smiling on him, as he was being Processed with Katya. That seemed strange as they were deliberately separating the Death Eaters but he and Katya were still together in an Intake room. And they had been Uncuffed. They were still Collared, but at least they had use of their hands. Plus, somehow the two fuzzies had managed to find them, as both cats were rubbing themselves against his legs.

How the hell did the cats get into Azkaban? How did the guards not see them?

"Lucky, wouldn't you say? That they kept us together?" Katya asked. Her lips were quirked in what seemed to be amusement. "And Grisha and Nadya managed to locate us. They'll keep the vermin away. Quite propitious, is it not?"

"Yes," was Severus' curt reply. "However…the exam?"

"They won't see your pendant or the mokeskin bag."

"And?" He looked downward at his seemingly flat stomach and then at Katya.

She shook her head once. "Let's sit down. You sit in the corner."

It took a little bit of time, as his center of gravity was off, but he managed to sit down on the intersection of two wooden planks that were attached to the wall. Not the most comfortable of chairs, but then Katya sat next to him, and she carefully placed her feet on the opposite wall's plank. The two familiars curled up next to him, hiding themselves among the shadows.

"Guarding me?" Severus asked.

A quick nod was her answer.

They were silent for a bit, though the thick walls of Azkaban did little to muffle the shrieking, keening sounds of prisoners gone mad. Severus swallowed once and then he voiced one of the most difficult apologies in his life. After Lily had refused to accept his apology for calling her a Mudblood, he had vowed to never apologize again. Well, except to the Dark Lord, and that a survivalist trait.

However rusty his contrite confessions were, Severus knew that recent events demanded one.

"I am quite sorry… about this… about Damyan. If I hadn't run…" He swallowed once more and he tried to continue. "I considered him… a friend…and… I am…. If I had only…It's my fault."

"Never you mind that. It's nobody's fault, nobody's to blame except for Damyan," whispered a somber Katya. "It's always been only a matter of time before we were found. And it's best for all if he's really dead. Damyan was a Monster. It is a moot point whether he was born or Transformed into a Monster, but he was one. A completely charismatic, exceedingly exasperating Monster."

The Russian witch roughly wiped her eyes.

"And perhaps he's finally found the peace that eluded him in life. Hopefully he's with… his wife… and his…."

The resolute Russian broke down then and Severus awkwardly patted her hand, wishing he could do more for the witch. After the storm of weeping passed, Ekaterina wiped her eyes once more. There was a glint in her eyes that he recognized, which usually meant that she was preparing to give Damyan the rough side of her tongue.

"Bloody, stinking bastard. Decides to be a bloody, stinking hero, tries to off two wizards that he couldn't hold a wand to, leaving me to pick up the pieces! Idiot's grand plans just succeeded in putting us in Akzaban, making me face Sergie! Bloody bastard better be dead, or I'm cutting off his tripes."

"Better be dead?" Severus softly questioned.

"I'd think I'd feel it more if he was dead," was her hesitant admission. "Somehow I expect him to show up, merrily chortling that they refused him admittance to the seventh level of hell."

"No doubt the devil would be afraid that he'd take over." Severus dryly quipped.

That earned him a brief chuckle.

"We've been together for so long. I've been with him for more than half my life, Severus. So, yes, I can't believe that he's dead. I simply can't wrap my mind around the idea that he's dead. But denial is usually the first reaction to death. "

"Actually, relief is what I feel," was Severus' confession. "Relief that my mother is finally gone. Relief that Tobias is dead."

"I put the flowers into your mother's casket," she informed him. Her voice was quiet and in the darkness, Severus could barely make out her face. Her hands reached for his and she squeezed them hard. "Like I promised I would. I keep my promises, Severus. I know you were far more impressed with Damyan's abilities than mine, but I vow that I will protect you as long as I can, Severus. I just don't know how long they'll let me live."

"The Russians?" A confused Severus asked.

"The Brotherhood. I do not know the reason why I'm still alive. I didn't expect to live this long after he died."

They seemed to be shriving each other, the darkness making it easier to admit their weaknesses.

"I'm not sure if I made the right choice," Severus shamefully admitted. "I nearly…"

"It's the Compulsion, Severus."

"I should have gone with him, done what he said." His voice was quite soft.

"Be proud that you stood up to him. It took a great deal of courage," the witch assured him. "To face your fears is never easy. And you did. And he _**heard**_ what you said Severus. I saw it in his eyes."

"I fear what might happen… if I manage to break the Compulsions. I could… easily… hate her. With no effort at all…as she'd be a living reminder…"

Severus stopped then, afraid to finish giving voice to his greatest nightmare. He could _**see**_ her, a small girl, with riotous curls, who was utterly terrified of the beast that was her father. She was cursed with a father who hated her, no matter how hard she struggled to be the best little girl. Her soul would be twisted and deformed by her mistaken belief that it was _**her**_ fault that her father….

_**I should have gone with Albus, allowed the Compulsions to swallow my soul. I should have done that, rather than risk … that…**_

"My goddaughter will always be a living reminder to you, of your two unlikely friends you found in an alleyway in Manchester," Ekaterina firmly stated.

The door to their cell opened, and they were ordered to stand.


	37. Chapter 37

Thanks to T.

* * *

A worried Dora Lupin met the returning Order Members. She had woken from her sound sleep, instinctively knowing that something had gone horribly wrong. Neither Remus nor Sirius was lying next to her. Sirius, she could explain his absence because he was having a bit of a sulk. However, Remus should have been curled up next to her, his hand resting on her belly.

Unsuccessfully, she tried not to panic.

There must be a good reason why both men weren't there. Perhaps they were having a bit of a nip with Filius. The Charms Master was rumored to make a potent bitter.

Yes, they were having a bit of wizard bonding. Bitter and crisps… That was it.

No… they _**couldn't**_ have left the castle.

Even the rumors that the Dark Lord had died failed to cheer her. If Remus had left to celebrate, he would have woken her, left her a message… for the love of little fuzzy werewolves, he hadn't gone to Manchester!

_**Remus**_.

She met the rather subdued group at the Entrance Hall. The assorted members of the Order were dirty, blood covered and in Harry's case, being all but carried by George Weasley. However, her eyes were focused on one thing only. A somber Hagrid was carrying… no… no… that limp bundle of rags…it couldn't be the father of her child…. It wasn't possible that Hagrid was carrying an injured Remus as gently as if he was a sleeping baby.

She wouldn't run to his side. No. No, she wouldn't panic… yet she found herself out of breath by the time she reached Hagrid.

"Let me see him." It was a command, not a request.

"Professor Dumbledore says I have to immediately take him to Poppy," Hagrid protested.

"He's my husband," was her retort. "Let me see him."

Hagrid carefully lowered Remus and Dora put her hands on his face. He was burning to the touch and his breath was rattling in his chest. His graying, light brown hair was plastered against his head due his high fever… however, was there more grey in his hair? Why were his throat and hands red, the skin blistered as though burned? Remus appeared seriously ill and his skin seemed… argent.

"Love… I'm here," Dora whispered to her husband.

Something… her voice… her touch seemed to reach him in his delirium as he partially opened his eyes. He managed to half smile when he realized that it was his adorable Dora.

She inhaled when she realized that the sclera of his eyes …. They were _silver_. Gleaming silver.

No… no… it couldn't be…. silver toxicity.

Dora knew the signs well as she had researched it when she had first set her cap for the werewolf. Her fancying the werewolf had made her klutzier than her norm, so she had thought it prudent to research the effect of silver on a werewolf. Just in case she accidentally stabbed him with her fork during dinner. Silver scleras and skin diagnosed that the silver was in his blood which meant there was a high risk of hemolysis. His red blood cells would burst and…bloody hell…he _**would**_ die….

There was no known cure for a silver toxicity. It would be a long and painful death. And he'd be long dead before their son was born.

"Love you…" he mouthed. "Don't worry… I'll be fine."

"I gotta get him to Poppy." Hagrid reminded Dora.

"Go… I'll be there in just a minute." Dora Lupin gently buzzed her husband on his cheek. "Poppy will take good care of you. You know how much she likes you. Remind her that you're married, love."

It was a long standing joke between the two of them that the older Hogwarts Hens were a bit too fond of Remus.

George and Hagrid hurried off to the infirmary with their charges and then Dora Lupin turned to face the remaining Order Members. Her hair was now pitch black and she seemed taller, more threatening than her norm. Subconsciously or not, Dora Lupin looked a great deal like a very irate Minerva McGonagall.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Dora was struggling to keep her temper under control. She had Teddy to worry about and she reassuringly patted her belly.

_Your Da will be fine, Teddy. Your Uncle Sirius…well… we're not sure about that…_

Sirius said not a word. Instead, he shook his head.

"_**SIRIUS PHINEAS BLACK!"**_ When Dora Lupin was in full voice, no one could match her – not even Molly Weasley. "Why the _**bloody**_ hell was Remus in Manchester?"

A subdued Sirius Black still would not look at her.

Bloody hell, was Sirius sniveling? Wiping tears from his eyes?

"He went after you, didn't he? You couldn't leave well enough alone. Dumbledore ordered you not to go to Manchester. Instead of listening, you decided to have a nice holiday in Manchester! So help me, if Remus dies because of your arrogant, self-absorbed narcissism… I'll kill you myself. What the bloody hell happened?"

Sirius still said not a word.

"Sirius went after us," inserted a rather somber Hermione.

"Bloody Harry… went to bloody Manchester! So Sirius decided to join the party?" Dora's tone was cutting.

"Voldemort's dead," offered a hopeful Ron.

At one time, Nymphadora Tonks Lupin would have rejoiced at that news, but not now.

"And my baby may not have a father. How did Remus get silver in his blood? Sirius, if anything happens to Remus, it will be your fault!"

Hestia Jones stepped forward.

"I'll explain as much as I can, but you'll need to sit down for this. Also, please don't interrupt me as it's confusing enough."

Hestia motioned and two comfortable armchairs appeared.

"Let's sit, Dora. It starts off like this… it seems that Severus and Albus were lovers…" Hestia began to explain.

"_**WHAT**_?" was the chorus of yelps from Dora, Ron and Hermione.

The apple cheeked witch held out one hand to silence the trio. "Come now, in these enlightened times are you stunned? Yes, they were lovers and it help explains what happened. When Voldemort captured Severus, he used Albus' appearance to hurt him, so Severus didn't know up from down…who to trust …. and so he ran… and somehow he met one of Gellert's wizards… and this wizard seemed to take a real shine to Severus."

"Being a double agent…" Dora slowly began.

"Yes, Severus' knowledge could be quite helpful for Gellert's wizard… so Gellert's wizard and his friends captured Remus and presented him to Severus because…" Hestia paused.

"Because he could show Severus that he'd protect him," finished Dora. "With Severus being unable to trust Albus…"

She was furious, unbelievably so… and Dora Lupin glared at the crestfallen Sirius Black.

"No matter how you try to weasel your way out of this, Sirius, this is _**your**_ fault. Your teenage _**stupidity**_ has come back _**hundredfold**_. You are a TRUE BLACK, Sirius. You _**bullied**_ Severus for years, and finally, someone decided to stick up for him. And Teddy might not have a father because of you, because… Remus has silver poisoning. You've finally done it."

Sirius Black shrunk into himself.

"If Severus had died all those years ago, they would have put Remus down. Now, all these years later, you've finally succeeded."

* * *

"Easy now," Filius warned Albus. "Let's nudge it this way."

It was delicate work, nudging and cajoling a rather cranky magical nexus into returning back where it was supposed to be. Manchester was still rumbling beneath their feet and there had been a heart-stopping moment when the rumble had turned into a roar.

With an almost audible snap, the nexus returned back to its location. Manchester shook once and stopped. There was silence, and the earth was finally still.

"It's done," Albus announced. "It's flowing properly."

"Yes," was Filius' curt response. Normally he was never terse; however he was still examining the nodes, wondering about the magic that wasn't there. Draganov had pooled it and when Damyan had died, it should have gone directly back into the nodes.

Yet it hadn't. The formerly rogue nodes, now repositioned, were quite well behaved. They had been heavily drained, more of a bubbling stream than the rampaging currents they had been.

Damyan had thrown something backhanded, toward Severus, just before he had fallen.

Thrown something…. Backhanded… toward…Severus? Filius' agile mind presented him with several interesting hypotheses.

_Severus_.

Had the nodes been drained sufficiently to provide adequate magical energy to satisfy a ravenous sprog for the next few months?

_Yes_.

Really, it was rather embarrassing that a dark wizard had taken better care of one of Filius' colleagues than he had. And that left Filius owing a debt that needed to be paid.

"Go to the Ministry, Albus," Filius not so gently suggested. "I know what needs to be done."

There was a Russian witch that was in need of some assistance that only Filius Flitwick could provide. Come to think of it, Horace Slughorn's multiple contacts could be quite helpful also.

* * *

Alastor Moody growled when he saw the smoking mess that once was Nurmengard. With a brusque nod of his head, he hobbled over to his trusty steed, a nicely modified Nimbus.

"I want a closer look, and like bloody hell am I walking up thirteen flights of steps," he growled.

Flitwick had been correct, as always. When the Nurmengard guards had seen Moody's scarred visage, they had immediately turned everything over to him to handle.

He hovered over Gellert's former flat for a bit, determining the physics required to produce the amount of damage, what the trajectory had been, the velocity required. Yes… physics… all Aurors were required to pass two years worth of fundamental physics. Harry Potter may be the luckiest lad to ever take a piss, but he'd still need to buckle down for his Auror training.

Let's see…. The acceleration due to magical gravity, angle of the spell, estimated velocity, the proposed horizontal distance… meant the height was…

No, it couldn't be.

Alastor decided to recheck his math. The acceleration due to magical gravity, angle of the spell, estimated velocity, the proposed horizontal distance… meant the height was… and combined with the anti-hovering charms, anti-flying carpet charms and anti-Compelled Giant spell…

Bloody hell. Gellert's wizards knew how to fly.

Where the hell had they learned that?

* * *

Horace Slughorn was not a particularly brave man. Least he believed himself to be, even though today he had gone toe to toe with a crazy Dark Mage and survived a Magical Apocalypse that had no doubt changed the climate in Western Europe.

But now, he had to take his druthers by their bootstraps and pull. He put his hand in front of Albus who was about to barrel his way into the Minister of Magic's office.

"Albus," he commanded. "We need to talk strategy before you go in there."

"Strategy?" Albus repeated. The defeater of Gellert and Voldemort was looking a bit worse for wear. His wrinkled dark clothes were stained and his hair needed a good brushing. Plus Horace thought Albus smelt a might… masculine… as though the older mage had dueled, fought in a magical apocalypse and then stabilized a rapidly sinking Manchester.

"We need to get you looking proper. You look like you've popped in from a war zone," Horace protested.

"I did," was Dumbledore's mild retort. "Perhaps you missed it?"

"You'll lose the advantage if you go in there like that. You look tired, and they'll take that as a sign of weakness. You need to negotiate from an appearance of strength. Come with me." Horace commanded. Then he took his life in his hands and pulled Albus into an empty room. "Nessie?"

A small House Elf was waiting for them. She had a dozen different robes, assorted hair care products and a steaming bowl of hot warm complete with hand towels and soap. She even had a small assortment of finger sandwiches and a tea set.

"Horace…"

"Albus… you've been wearing those clothes since whatever the bloody hell happened in Prague happened. Now which outfit do you wish to wear?"

"Tweeds and tartans, Horace? I can tell who pick out these out." Albus protested.

"Well, Nessie insisted on adding a few other choices. Dear girl is a bit of a fashionista!" Horace laughed and the House Elf blushed. "Now, now, I'm not mocking you, Nessie. Albus! She has tried to separate me from my tweed jackets!"

"Really, you could try a more flattering pattern, perhaps even a solid," was Dumbledore's retort. "However, I could really do with a bit of wash up."

"I won't look, old chap. You're not my type." Horace assured him. Nessie the House Elf closed her eyes and then covered them with her little hands.

Horace made himself comfortable in a chair that he spelled up for the occasion, and then looked away from Albus. There was the sound of splashing.

"You can no longer be Severus' keeper." That proclamation announced, Horace the sage took one of Albus' sandwiches for himself. Truly, it had been a rather strenuous day and he required sustenance.

"That thought had crossed my mind. However, who would they allow to assume the role of Severus' warden? No doubt he is classified as doubly dangerous, as he has fallen in with Gellert's crowd."

"Minerva," was Horace's immediate response. "Turn responsibility for Severus over to Minerva. Let her be his warden. He trusts her… as much as Severus can trust anyone after this hullabaloo. She buffered Severus from you and she stood up to Draganov. "

"Unfortunately, I don't see them switching his parole over to Minerva. While you and I well know how formidable Minerva truly is, they do not. I fear that he be remanded to Alastor Moody."

"I've called in a few favors," was all to which a modest Horace would admit. His humility earned him an appreciative chuckle from Dumbledore.

"However, the transition must be deftly handed, for if I renege on that agreement before Minerva is accepted as his guardian, Severus may have to _stay_ in Azkaban," was Albus' protest. "I think we can both agree that we desire him out of Azkaban."

"Yes," Horace agreed before tucking into another sandwich.

"I'm presentable," Albus announced. "I feel so much better. Almost human in fact. Thank you, Horace. Thank you, Nessie. Are you Horace's personal House Elf?"

The House Elf shook her head. "Nessie helping as Nessie needed."

"She's new to Hogwarts and is in the general staff." Horace explained. "But she's always willing to help me when I need assistance. I find her quite discreet and I know she would love to have her own staff member to garb. Perhaps, Severus might be in need of a House Elf when he returns? I'm sure our little fashionista could get him into a new shade."

The little House Elf's ears perked up and she began jumping up and down in delight.

"Nessie having Master now! Nessie will _**dress**_ Master! Nessie dressed Mistress prettily! Now Nessie having Master!"

"Wait… wait…" Horace protested while the deliriously happy House Elf continued to bounce in her excitement. "I didn't promise you Severus!"

Albus looked at the House Elf and remembered the rather woe begotten Elf she had been a few short months ago. Her Mistress and her family had died in an attack by the Death Eaters, and the little Elf had deeply grieved for the lost of the little babies she had once minded.

She was probably the only House Elf in all of Hogwarts who had recent nappy changing experience, Albus realized. Severus would need assistance with Ariana, perhaps he might be willing to make use of a House Elf for a few hours a day.

"Very well, Severus may be in need of a House Elf or three in September," Albus finally decided. "But only if she can keep silent. Nessie, can you be… _**quiet**_?"

The House Elf stopped in mid-leap. She looked up at Albus, her big brown eyes full of tears and she was nodding her head. Deliberately, she put her hands over her mouth.

"Most importantly, Severus will have to agree to accept you as his House Elf. He's never utilized any of the Hogwarts House Elf before, you see," Albus gently explained to the little House Elf.

Her ears drooped and she nodded her understanding.

"Nessie, are you truly old enough to work at Hogwarts?" Albus asked. Truly, the House Elf seemed quite the innocent what with her overjoyed enthusiasm.

She furiously nodded her head.

"Work _**full**_ time?" Albus prompted.

Her head stopped in mid-nod and she looked intently elsewhere. That answered that question.

"Or are you only permitted to work a few hours a day?"

Her ears drooped still further.

"Nessie, I want you to go speak with Pomona Sprout. You are to inform her that you are underaged… and… "

The House Elf trembled as she feared that she'd be kicked out of Hogwarts for lying regarding her age.

"That you _**must**_ finish your schooling. Also advise her that I will speak to her regarding your future employment at Hogwarts. Until then, you are not to work more hours than a House Elf of your age is permitted. I believe that you're only allowed to work two hours a day, Nessie."

"Nessie be having no one, no one wanting good Nessie," the House Elf sorrowfully explained. "After Mistress gone… so Nessie went to Hogwarts."

"Go to Pomona, Nessie. She'll take good care of you," Albus softly promised.

The House Elf quickly cleaned up and then disappeared with a soft "pop".

"Now, if I could only handle this crisis as well," Albus admitted.

* * *

Hagrid was surprisingly gentle as he carried Remus to Poppy. The Mediwitch was very somber when she saw Remus, and she pointed to the isolation ward. Harry was abruptly dismissed to one of the cots with a quick hand gesture from the Matron.

It was blessedly dark in the ward. Thankfully, as his eyes were photosensitive. It had taken all his strength not to voice his pain when he had opened his eyes to look at Dora. Desperately, he had wanted that one last look at his wife.

He was placed just so on the bed and Hagrid quietly left. Truly it was unnerving that Hagrid could move that silently.

Thank God, it was cool in the room. He was drenched in sweat yet he was so damn bloody hot.

"Poppy?" Remus whispered. He reached for Poppy's hand and squeezed it hard. "I'm dying."

"Don't say that," was Poppy's somber response. "I will tell you when you're dying."

The tart-tongued Poppy wasn't telling him that he was mistaken, he noted.

"Silver's in my brain. I'm _**hallucinating**_…" Remus painfully smiled and then swallowed. "Severus can't be… _**pregnant**_… with Albus' baby… It's just not physically possible! I mean… I think I saw purple unicorns? Men having babies… Severus and Albus having… _**sex**_… The silver's hit my brain. Though… he walks like Dora does…"

* * *

Ekaterina helped Severus to his feet. He muttered a protest about how he was able to stand on his own, but the witch just shook her head. Really, he should be grateful for the help as his center of balance was quite off these days.

The guard look confused over the fact that there were two people, one boy, one girl, and two fuzzy cats sitting in the same cell. He waved his hands in a confused sort of gesture, and then shook his head.

"They know what they're doing," he mumbled. "The medics are checking you out."

Severus had thought perhaps Albus Dumbledore would be making a pest out of himself, demanding his admittance to the ward, but he wasn't expecting Filius Flitwick. The diminutive Charms Master gave him a secretive wink and patted his stomach. Severus was immediately cheered by Filius' appearance because that meant that the unexpected Ariana would be kept secret. Not that he doubted Damyan's wards. However a live Charms Masters of Filius' towering reputation was better than the promises of deranged, dead Dark Wizard, no matter how sincere.

"As part of the Accords of Azkaban, you're allowed a representative during the intake process. That would be me," explained Filius. "Minerva has agreed to be Ms. Dobrolubskaia's representative. We thought it would be proper to have Minerva bear witness, though Serge volunteered."

The Healer pointed at one of the causality wards and then indicated Severus.

"Get in there," the Healer commanded. "Take everything off and wrap yourself in the sheet. I'll be in shortly. No funny stuff. And you, witch, you go to the room on the right."

* * *

They had _**physically**_ restrained him, and he savagely growled his frustration when he realized that that he was also magically controlled. Really, wasn't it a bit overly dramatic to do both? Like they thought he would hurt someone, weakened though he was.

The articulation of his growing aggravation caused the young Healer to jump a meter or so. He growled louder, delighting in her fear of him. Then he manfully struggled once more to free himself of their restraints. The cot cracked beneath him and he continued to fight against his restraints.

The fever was in his blood. It pulsed and raced through his body, and he was furious.

The bloody idiots had put his foot on wrong.

They had put his _**bloody**_ foot on wrong.

How the bloody hell did anyone expect him to kill Dumbledore when he was the bloody Hopping Pot made incarnate?

Bloody hell, they had put his foot on wrong, thrown him in a wooden box and had bloody tried to bloody bury him. They knew he was bloody claustrophobic and they put him in a bloody box and …it was enough to make him blow his bloody top. He kill them all, if he could get out of the damn restraints.

He screamed his frustration and reached for his magic. Reached for it, had it, and then he twisted just so… the windows in the building exploded outward and then his power was gone. He raged again, nearly incoherent in his desire to destroy.

They came for him then, the Bulgarians, the Russians and the Czechs… and he fought. But he was unaided and there were so many of them that they quickly overpowered him.

* * *

Gellert Grindelwald shook his head at the inhuman shrieks coming from the heavily warded casualty ward.

"How many this time?" He questioned, more out of a sense of required decorum rather than any real interest.

"A dozen," Byakko informed his Lord. His tone was dispassionate as he dismissed the carnage.

"Should have brought his woman instead of leaving her behind," Gellert complained. "I don't desire to lose any of my followers."

"He didn't kill anyone and next time, they'll move faster. They'll have more respect for him after he's nearly killed them. Also, they'll confirm that he's actually dead rather than just severely magically depleted. Damn good thing that Toma and Rada refused to believe he was dead."

The thunder cracked while the lightning snaked across the sky. Damyan's temper tantrum was playing havoc with the weather, Gellert noted. First time he was out of his cell in decades, and Damyan's eppies were causing a monsoon.

He pouted, a perfect sulk that had once charmed the great Albus Dumbledore.

"It's a shame that he is in no condition to take on Albus," Gellert mused.


	38. Chapter 38

A/N - we left Severus in Azkaban after he refused Albus' help. Remus has silver toxicity and is in the infirmary. And there's a little House Elf that has decided that she'd be perfect for Severus.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore took a deep breath, wishing that the Wisdom of Solomon was available for let. While he was hoping for the impossible, perhaps the Japanese goddess Benzautin might make a command appearance. Her tendency to save men from Dragons would be greatly appreciated in the current situation.

The very thought that a traumatized Severus had been subjected to that… psychopath's… whimsy made Albus' blood run cold.

Now, he shouldn't be jealous, shouldn't be aggrieved that Severus and Damyan were lovers. He _**wasn't**_… he was just… _**concerned**_. And quite rightfully furious with himself, that his cack-handed handling of the situation had caused a terrified Severus to run straight into the arms… and the bed… of _**Damyan Draganov**_. Albus remembered too well the carnage that the berserker had caused. During the dark days of the war with Gellert…. his handlers would unleash him and….the blood would stain the streets.

So much blood… so much hatred concentrated in that dark monster's core.

Bloody hell, Severus was in dire straits. It had been difficult enough to convince the Wizengamot of Severus' trustworthiness the _**first**_ time. And many of the jurors that he had swayed to his belief in Severus' fidelity were still on the bloody court and less likely to forgive a second offense.

He stood before the chamber door where the Wizengamot was meeting. As the former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he knew full well that the politicking had already begun. The blood was in the water, and the sharks were circling. However, in addition to the usual aim to merely survive the blood sport of Wizengamot politics, he had to focus on obtaining Severus' release from Azkaban. Yes, Severus had strongly expressed hi s sincere desire to be in Azkaban… essentially only because he wouldn't be anywhere near Albus Dumbledore. It had been best for Severus to win that argument, to prove his independence, that he had the ability to control his life.

Yet, Severus was reasonable, knew that it wouldn't be healthy for him and Ariana to be in Azkaban. No, he knew that he needed a Healer, preferably a _**rational**_ Healer without an unslakable thirst for chaos and destruction.

And if it was a Healer that didn't take a sadistic delight in revealing all of Albus' assorted skeletons, so much the better in Albus' biased view.

Yes, Severus deserved the truth. Albus Dumbledore had feet of clay. Legs, toros, hands… all clay.

When he and Minerva had gotten quite close, Albus had timidly revealed his painful past. The hormonal infatuation with Gellert, how Albus had neglected his family because he had been a self-absorbed prat, yet still she had stayed. Amazingly enough, Minerva had accepted the real Albus even with _**all**_ his flaws and he had loved her even more for her magnanimous nature.

Oh God above, how he had loved her.

But why were these old memories being stirred? After their relationship had ended, it had taken years before they could be comfortable with each other. Years… and why now were those old feeling rekindling?

_**Because Minerva had been injured because of him. **_

_**Because when he had first visited Minerva in the Infirmary, he had experienced an icy chill in the pit of the stomach. The same chill that he had felt when he first saw the still, small body of his sister lying on the floor. It was the realization that events had escalated out of control and he had been too damn self-absorbed and too focused on other issues to realize that he had the potential to stop it. Before anyone got hurt, before anyone died. **_

_**He had felt it again when he had been made aware of the events of the Shrieking Shack. **_

_**When Minerva had been hurt by the Voldemort's followers – in order to send Albus Dumbledore a message…**_

_**Of what had been done to Severus Snape by Voldemort and his followers. **_

Severus, he needed to focus on Severus. Not Minerva. Yes, Severus.

He had to give up his insane desire to control, his overwhelming desire to somehow mitigate the current situation. Since his unhealthy relationship with Gellert, he had never allowed himself to be swayed into that situation again, where his good sense and his moral code was overwhelmed by a charismatic personality. And yet, he was doing it again. Except this time, he was the overpowering personality.

Bloody hell, he was _**Gellert**_… all over again…

He needed to let Severus make the decisions.

It was necessary that Severus breathe without Albus Dumbledore instructing him on how to do so!

Albus had prepared a suite of rooms for Severus in Hogwarts some months previous. They were similar to the ones down in the dungeon, but they were most assuredly not in the dungeon. No, the Slytherins were in the dungeon, and it was just too risky to have a Death Eater's child near a weakened Severus, _**especially**_ after recent events. It would be far safer for Severus to be located next to Minerva' quarters plus the odds of Severus doing another runner without Minerva being aware would be fairly low. It had taken a bit of sweet talking, but Albus had convinced Hogwarts to stretch that one corridor long enough to place Severus' suite there.

Everything was waiting for Severus' arrival, all neatly boxed and ready to be unpacked. He probably should have unpacked everything for Severus, but Albus was mightily struggling not to be an overbearing prat. Severus had very good reasons for not wishing to return back to Hogwarts and he should make the decision where he wished to live. If Minerva was selected to be Severus' new guardian, she might convince him to stay at Hogwarts….

Albus would stay away. Not get involved unless specifically asked… however, Albus had found a rather comfortable rocker that he had placed in the nursery. After the horrible incident with Ariana, his disturbed sister had often been soothed to sleep by gentle rocking so perhaps the baby might like it also. It was for Ariana, so Severus could take it wherever he moved. If he wished to take it.

There was the strong chance that he had been too presumptuous, as Albus had also had stationed his various knitted animals in the chair, complete with the green and silver baby blanket. He had also included a duplicate copy of the list detailing what the baby…. No… ARIANA might need. Just a small way to show that he wished to share in the responsibilities of young Ariana. And even if Severus did not wish him to be involved at all, Severus might deign to permit the knitted stuffed animals. They were quite endearing in Albus' rather biased opinion. Fawkes had even given up his floppy doppelganger. The Phoenix thought it proper that the young chick should have her own Phoenix to watch over her, though Albus had to first vow that he'd knit Fawkes a new one.

Time to stop dawdling and enter the fray.

He put his hand on the door handle, and to his surprise, someone grabbed his forearm. That brave soul was the graying Russian veteran, Serge. The grizzled wizard who had kept his head during recent events, unlike the others who had been running scared.

"Help me get her out," Serge growled. "You and I have to work together. It is utter chaos right now, Pierre and Richard are both dead, and the International Confederation of Wizards is still identifying the bodies from that massacre. I know Ekaterina very well; there is no way she would willingly stay with that monster for the last thirty years. If she was Compelled and ensorcered into staying with him, then your lad most likely was."

To say that Albus was slightly confused about Serge's remarkable turnaround in attitudes was an understatement. The two Russian mages had fought, and the victorious Serge had charged Ekaterina with assorted crimes that carried a mandatory death sentence.

"We were… engaged," Serge slowly admitted. His tone was apologetic, as though he was plagued by the ghosts of what might have been. "I have to be circumspect in my dealings. There are some that will remember our relationship, and I must show _**no**_ signs of partiality. Better I capture her than someone else, because at least, I'll treat her by the book. The young ones, they'd be too enamored with making a fearsome reputation. They'd abuse her."

"Why do you think I'll help you?" Albus asked.

The Siberian mage grinned. It was a wolfish smile, a blood thirsty smirk, completely devoid of anything resembling good humor.

"I'm a mud-blood. My blood is as muddy as the banks of the River Volga. My desushka was as deaf as a post. However, we had the most fascinating conversations because he could read lips. I thought it a might useful trick and it's come in handy more than a few times. Pure bloods don't think of that when they shield their conversations. I am not completely sure about the relationship between you and that lad as I don't read English lips as well as I do Russian. "

The grizzled mage barked a harsh laugh.

"He _**can't**_ be pregnant, Albus. But what I can tell, he's blaming you for abandoning him and you feel damn guilty. Whatever existed between Katya and me is long dead, but I _**owe**_ her. My decisions put her in the den of that _**monster**_ for thirty years, Albus. You and I are both old men, and we need to pay our debts to those we've failed."

Serge crossed his arms in front of his broad chest and gave Albus a challenging glare.

"That is why you'll help me. Guilt is a powerful motivator!"

* * *

Nessie, the little House Elf, dutifully nodded her head during the pause in the conversation.

She thought Mistress Pomona was more than a wee bit batty. However, Headmaster had commanded; therefore she had dutifully reported her underage status to the Head of Hufflepuff, the House that had traditionally overseen the Hogwarts House Elves. The House Elf's confession of being a juvenile delinquent had not earned her the anticipated lashing, instead it had earned her a cuppa and several bikkies from Mistress Pomona. While the bikkies were delicious, Nessie was keen to find her new Master's quarters and make everything presentable.

If even the faintest hint of the possibility of claiming a House Elf-less Hogwarts Professor surfaced, Nessie knew that Professor Snape would be flooded with willing supplicants. Even one as rumored to be as surly as Professor Snape. Therefore, she had to stake her claim and do so quickly.

"My dear girl," Pomona's voice was uncertain. "Albus believed that you'd be perfect to be Severus Snape's House Elf?"

Nessie furiously nodded her head.

"Nessie good elf!" She proudly exclaimed even while Pomona foisted another bikkie on her. "Mistress said Nessie bestest House Elf! Nessie works hardest to be bestest House Elf. Master Snape be needing good elf like Nessie!"

"I'm sure you are," Pomona assured the little House Elf. "However, I'm not sure when Severus is returning back to Hogwarts, and I'm not certain if he'll require a House Elf."

_**What**_? Nessie's ears trembled and her lips quivered at the unbearable thought that she _**wouldn't **_have her very own Master to lovingly attend.

"Now, now, now, don't cry, Nessie. You have a home here, but remember, you can't work more than two hours a day. You also need to go to House Elf School and I want you to check in with Aggie. She'll keep an eye on you."

The House Elf nodded her head.

"Promise?" Pomona asked, as she was quite familiar with House Elves and their unique mindset. That was why she let House Elf House Mum Aggie deal with the underage House Elves. Else she'd take up drinking sherry with Trelawney.

Again, a well-behaved Nessie nodded her head.

* * *

"I quite like the beard," Filius informed Severus. The Charms Master had created a nice, comfy chair for himself as he was too bloody old to stand around. Fillus liked bludgeoning everyone with how old he was. He could get away with his rare moments of being obstinate and contrary, because that was accepted as part and parcel of being old.

Filius was a bloody brick, trying to act like what was about to occur was perfectly normal. Severus, clad in only a bloody sheet, was having his intake exam for Azkaban, where his various medical and magical conditions would be cataloged and categorized for the entire readership of the Daily Prophet. Before the sun set, odds were quite good that everyone would know that he was up the duff with Dumbledore's child.

"I may keep it," was Severus' retort. It was easy to slip into his old friendship with Filius, easy to find the sarcasm and cynicism required to balance Filius' sugar coated sweetness. "Perhaps wear it as a goatee. Gives me a more masculine air."

His quip earned him a quick wink from Filius.

"I've been quite worried about you two," was Filius' soft comment. "Terribly, terribly anxious about you."

Yes, no doubt Filius had been, as had Minerva and Horace.

"I must confess that I was rather concerned also." Severus' dry statement earned a soft laugh from Filius.

"How did you meet _**him**_?" Filius inquired. "Don't tell me you met as you both had a hankering for scones and tea."

"A blind jump," Severus admitted. He tensed in anticipation of Filius' chastisement over his rash action. "I was visiting my mother… had to make sure her bills were current… and… the Order… the Aurors… Minerva… were there and breaking my parole? Would cause me to be returned here. … I… desired to be somewhere safe."

_**Away from Dumbledore**_ was unspoken, but still loudly heard.

For a wonder, Filius' blue eyes were full of compassion. Not the anticipated censure, a condescending disbelief that Severus would _**run**_ from the savior of magical kind, Albus Dumbledore. No, Filius understood… accepted… and acknowledged the extent of Severus' unease. And he didn't try to convince Severus otherwise, unlike Minerva.

Yet who was truly right about Albus?

The professor that had known the young Albus during his formative years?

The woman who had loved and trusted him?

The Dark Wizard who despised Dumbledore?

Perhaps they all were.

"And?" Filius prompted. "How did you meet him?"

"I landed in his alleyway. He and Katya took me in as I was dying and… for their troubles, for their hospitality and… their compassion, I have repaid them… exceedingly… well."

Severus struggled to keep his composure after that confession.

_Ari, I've gotten your godfather killed, your godmother is facing execution for mass crimes against humanity. Your grandmother is dead because of me, and your grandfather murdered. _

"Damyan Draganov has been reported dead numerous times, so I'll believe he's really dead if we meet at the Pearly Gates. However, there is still hope for Ms. Dobrolubskaia as I'm defending her. She in is dire need of a good barrister. Alas, I can't do the same for you, Severus. I'm pulling in old favors owed as I hope to be made your warden, Severus, and I cannot be both your barrister and your guardian. Not if I wish to give them both the time and effort they require."

"You'll be in charge of my parole?" Severus questioned.

"Yes, it is extremely unhealthy for you if Albus continues to be in the position of overseeing you. I should have suggested this before, but it was a little chaotic after we rescued you."

Filius shook his head, seemingly annoyed with his lack of foresight. "You're deeply troubled by Albus… and it's not just what they did to you. Your distrust of Albus is due to what Albus has done… and more importantly, not done… to you over the years. The Shrieking Shack… Lupin… Sirius Black… Albus can pledge you anything… but you simply do not believe that he'll follow through on his promises. Your recent traumas have greatly augmented your doubts of him. And reasonably so, my dear boy."

Filius' eyes were penetrating and Severus had to look away.

"Severus, do you truly trust Minerva?" Filius questioned. "Would you be more comfortable if she were made your guardian? I'll step aside if you wish her to be your steward."

Severus just swallowed, refusing to answer. What an odd question, and one that he should so easily answer. Yet, his tongue was still.

"Severus, your silence has answered that," the Charms Master sighed. "Minerva is exceedingly fond of you. I also know that your relationship with her was not completely platonic."

Trust Filius to attempt to put a thin veneer of respectability on Severus and Minerva's mattress bouncing escapades.

"I trust her as much as I can trust anyone," protested Severus. He was damning her with faint praise and he knew it.

The Charms Master patted Severus' hand.

"You and I haven't been particularly close, I know. You believe that I'm a boring, long-winded academic and you're a young man, living a life full of adventure and danger. It is long past time that I remedied that," Filius firmly decided. "I'm a world-renown connoisseur of the joys of boy-girl relationships. Your awareness of my particular peccadilloes will be a soothing balm to your strained nerves. You will not have to fear the faintest insinuation of my alleged sexual desire for you. There will be nothing between us but a firm, stalwart camaraderie. If you must have a guardian, Severus, I will take on that role. I cannot allow you to fall into the role of sexual captive."

"I could make it good for you," Severus offered. It was meant to be a sardonic quip, a caustic witticism regarding Filius' vanilla heterosexuality, but it brought unhappy memories to the forefront of his mind.

_"I could make it… __**good**__… for __**you**__," Severus whispered, stressing those words as though they were of utmost importance._

_"No, I must refuse your most kind and generous offer, Severus," Albus kindly responded._

_"I have been assured that I am quite… skilled," Severus softly offered, his voice distressed. "My techniques could give you… intensive pleasure…"_

He had offered that to Albus. A lifetime and more ago… and Albus had been repulsed….

Had he had tendered the same illicit proposal to an appalled Damyan?

He felt a remembered tap on his forehead. _Go to sleep, Severus. You're far too fragile for the likes of a monster like me. _A soft promise that he wouldn't remember this particular conversation.

How much of his time in Manchester did he truly remember?

_I don't remember much of what happened there. They will not accept that answer and they will rummage in my mind_…

The walls of Azkaban were closing in on him, cutting off his air.

Filius grabbed Severus' hand and squeezed it hard.

"Lie down on your side, lad. Now, deep breath," the Charms Master instructed. "Take a deep breath and hold it. Now… exhale."

Severus focused on breathing, struggling to avoid the looming panic attack. Just his luck, to be seen as a Screaming Nancy during his intake interview. He'd never survive Azkaban at this rate… nor would Ariana…

"What the hell have I done?" Severus whispered. "I should have pleaded for mercy. He told me… one word and he'd get me out of here."

Filius put one finger against Severus' lips.

"I will get you out of here, Severus, if it comes to that. Remember, I taught Albus Dumbledore a great deal of what he knows. I understand that he's a bit more flashily dressed than I am and quite a few years younger, but I am a more than capable wizard. Escaping now before your trial, you'd never prove your innocence. Nor explain to the disbelieving world that a former Russian Auror did not spend the last thirty plus years willingly with Draganov. Be strong, lad. You will survive Azkaban. I _**did**_," admitted Filius. "On my own and without a Russian Auror bodyguard with her two Archangel cats."

"_**What**_?" that was Severus' witty retort.

"She's obviously been placed here to keep you safe. Layers upon layers of planning, intricately weaved preparations, in order to be prepared for anything. That was Gellert's modus operandi. Why should his lieutenants be anything less than methodical?" Filius shook his head.

"No… you were in Azkaban?"

"Oh that, rather exciting at the time, now not so much. Involved a long-legged witch, several overzealous suitors, a father highly placed who didn't like half-breeds like me. We had hoped that he'd come around after I gave him a few grandchildren." Filius harrumphed a bit, in mild consternation over past insults.

"Your father-in-law put you in Azkaban?" Severus repeated. "That doesn't bode well."

"Well, of the five, he was the most prickly," Filius admitted.

"Five? You were married five times?"

"Who said I was only married five times?" Filius questioned. "I was actually married…"

"You said you had five Father-in-laws," repeated Severus.

"Hush, lad. I'm counting. One… two… three… no…that wasn't three, as I barely escaped her brothers. Jumping out of a window is hard work, though I learned how to fly the hard way…. Let's see… Let's see… seven…. Well… ten, if you count the remarriages… I kept remarrying Gisele even though I knew how it would turn out. Oh… _Gisele_…"

Filius appeared to be quite bespelled by tawdry memories of Gisele.

"Filius? TEN TIMES?" The younger mage awkwardly sat up and placed his hand against his invisible, yet distended belly. _Ari,_ _you're never going near this dangerous old corgi!_

Filius appeared a bit disconcerted by Severus' disbelief.

"Magic in the wizard, lad." Filius gently chastised the younger man. "Now let's get you wrapped up properly. I don't want you catching cold."

The Healer walked in and Filius magicked up a copy of the Quibbler to read. He hid his small frame behind the garish headline of "EARTHQUAKE IN MANCHESTER RELEASES DAMYAN DRAGANOV FROM HIS UNDERGROUND PRISON." It was a kind gesture to give Severus the feeling of privacy, but Severus knew that the Charms Master was keeping both sharp eyes on him.

The Healer, a frenzied ginger haired brute, growled.

"You've got a left arm. Your medical records plainly say that your left arm was amputated. What the bloody hell are you doing with a left arm?"

Filius tittered, and the Healer glared. It seemed that the Healer was a prime example of someone who had made a bad career choice. Not that Severus had the right to complain, as look at the life his decisions had given him.

In response, Filius neatly folded the paper in half and shook his head. "Sorry, it's the Quibbler. Always makes me chuckle."

* * *

The exam was brusque, impersonal and Severus struggled to maintain his composure. Being touched by Minerva or Filius was bad enough, but for a stranger to put their hands on him? It made him physically ill.

What was that shite that Damyan had taught him? His happy place? He couldn't find it, and he mentally pleaded with Ariana not to move.

_Don't move. Don't kick. Just sleep. _

"Bit of a chub, I see," the Healer drolly commented. "They'll love you in Azakban as you're a nice, plump thing. Bugger it; I need a new Dexter Deville's Diagnostic Dowel."

"Whatever is the problem?" Filius asked over the top of the Quibbler. He was still reading the periodical, though now the title was displaying a rather risqué looking witch under the caption "Sex Four Times a Day: The True Story of Damyan Draganov's Russian Auror Sex Slave - I was his willing love captive. What I did to sexually appease the Dragon."

Ekaterna might be flattered by her supposed doppelganger's impressively buxom bosom but being known as a willing love captive? He knew who had the upper hand in that relationship, and it was the one that had kept Damyan foam-free and functional… until Severus had shown up on his doorstep, complete with a note that said 'free to good home'.

"It says that he's a stone underweight, but my eyes disagree. He's not supposed to have a left arm, but he does and…" The Healer continued to snipe.

"Let me see the Dowel," Filius commanded. "Don't roll your eyes at me. I taught Dex everything he knew."

The dowel handed over, with a quick snap of his wrist, Filius took over Severus' exam. With his nimble hands, some sleight of hand, Filius made appear as though he performing a thorough physical exam. However, the diminutive Master of Prestidigitation kept his hands off Severus, except for one long, deliberate swipe of Severus' belly with one agile finger.

Severus was dozing, his eyes closed when he felt a giggling Ari jump in response.

_Tickles, Poppa!_ _Uncle Fi tickles!_

_Listen, Ari, your Uncle Fi is quite the womanizer. You're not going anywhere near him._

"There," Filius announced. He handed over the Dowel back to the Healer. "Everything's just fine. Look at the results."

The Healer glanced at the wand and then rolled his eyes.

"You're fine. Slightly anemic, that's all. The Guards will be in shortly to take you and the Russian to the Trial room. They've assembled the full court for you two."

"What?" Severus asked. His question was repeated by Filius.

"You're guilty as hell, so they don't want to hold off your Kiss," the Healer explained. "You're getting Kissed by a Dementor for being a traitor."

Severus was about to protest when Filius inserted his two cents. "Severus, we won't be inviting him to the party when you get your Order of the Merlin, First Class. Now let's get you into some proper clothes. Get out."

* * *

Filius had brought a proper set of wizard robes. He assisted Severus getting into them and then they faced the problem area, Severus' expanded equator. The Charms Master made up a few impromptu Charms and convinced the clothes to stretch to cover the gap. That done, the old corgi insisted on straightening out the wrinkles in Severus' clothes, to make him look presentable.

Amusing coming from the man whose jacket tails trailed on the ground.

"Your friend does good work," Filius remarked in a professional tone. "Layers upon layers of Minor Eye Fooling charms are more realistic than one Major Charm. It looks like you're only hiding a wee bit of a belly. And that Jade Pendant is amazing Charm work."

Severus made a non- committal murmur and then Filius patted his hand.

"I'm very sorry about your friends, Severus. _**Both**_ of them. You were quite lucky to find them." Filius then continued. "To find someone willing to duel Albus, especially when he knew full well he didn't have a chance to win. When this is all settled and proper, you and I will have a long tea where you can tell me all about them."

Oh yes, poor Filius was such a steadfast soul, he would bring a tea to the Soul-Sucked Severus just to fulfill his promise.

"I need you to believe me on this. He didn't kill his wife and child," Severus insisted to Filius. "He came home and found them dead. A Muggle had broken into the shop to steal narcotics. The Bulgarians Aurors didn't even investigate instead they attacked."

"Have faith in me, Severus. I will not let them take your soul from you. And your daughter is safe. I know it's exceedingly hard for you to trust anyone after what happened but I will not let anyone hurt you or your daughter."

Severus was tempted to sneer, but the resolute Filius was looking intensely serious.

"It's in our favor that they're rushing this. They'll make mistakes," Filius informed him. "Cool logic will prevail, but I fear that Albus will have to be a witness for you."

"Albus? I just told him to sod off!"

His fear woke the drowsy Ariana and Severus could feel her hiccuping.

_Go back to sleep, Ari. I didn't mean to wake you. _

Filius patted his hand. "I'm representing Ms. Dobrolubskaia and I will be declared your guardian. It looks like I will be representing you also. Severus, they will restrain you, put you in shackles and fetters. I know this will be hard, but do not panic. You make any attempt to escape and they will put you in a gibbet. You won't fit in one, at least not easily, and they will investigate. I don't think his Charms will withstand a full onslaught of Aurors attempting to break them."

"But Albus as a witness?" Severus protested. "I don't think he'll wish to help me."

_Not after Damyan exposed all his secrets in front of the Order. _

"Severus, I can assure you that a significant part of your current difficulties with Albus is that he's struggling too hard to assist you. He needs to let you breathe without him hovering over you."

Really, what could Severus say to that? What with a Dementor's Kiss waiting for him? He couldn't let anything happen to Ari... not if he had any chance to prevent it.

Why did he reject Albus' help? Out of spite? Out of stupidity?

"I need to write down something," Severus finally decided.

* * *

Poppy returned to Remus' ward. She was carrying a tray full of potions and she warmly spoke to the werewolf. Remus struggled to smile in response and then his legs stiffened. His upper body began to rapidly and rhythmically jerk. His eyes were wild in fright as he was fully aware that he was having a seizure.

Poppy placed the tray on the chair, took out her wand and began to cast an anti-seizure spell. The seizure seemed determined to spite her as it refused to resolve, no instead, there was a brief pause and then he began seizing again. This time his seizure was more severe, his body shaking more violent. Yet his brown eyes were still aware.

It was time for drastic action, so Poppy casted a Major Seizure-Cessation spell.

When the seizure broke, she Cleaned and Dried the diaphoretic Remus.

"The silver's in my blood and it's gotten to my brain," he whispered. "I'm dying, Poppy. I'm dying. Oh God, I want so much to be there when my son is born."

The werewolf broke down into tears then.

"Damn Sirius, God bloody damn him. He's killed me because of his petty problems with Severus."

No, it wasn't the truth. Well, it wasn't the complete truth. Remus was dying before he had never once stood up for Severus, lacking the necessary fortitude to defend the victim.

It was his bloody fault.

"How's Severus?" He finally asked when he stopped weeping like a baby.

"He's in Azkaban and they're debating about the Kiss. Because of recent events, it doesn't look promising for them... _**him**_."

Odd little slip of the tongue._** Them**_. The waddling. Poppy's strange look when Remus had joked about it.

Bloody hell, Severus _**was**_ pregnant. It didn't matter how or why, but just that there was another generation doomed to repeat the same stupidity that had dogged their fathers unless someone made the effort.

"Get Dora," Remus requested.

"After your potions," Poppy protested.

"I'll drink them, just get her here." Remus then drank Poppy's pungent potions without a protest and he closed his eyes, waiting for Dora to arrive.

Despite his resolve to stay awake, he was dozing when his wife appeared in his quarters.

"I'm here," she whispered.

"You have to help me get out of Hogwarts," Remus pleaded. "I have to go to the Wizengamot. I have to be a witness... for Severus. It's time I finally stood up for him, and I hope that I'm not too late."

* * *

When Nessie, the little House Elf, finally made her escape from Pomona, she closed her eye, concentrated very, very hard and then popped into Severus' quarters. It was a large suite of rooms and most assuredly it wasn't in its usual place in the dungeon. She didn't quite know where exactly she was in Hogwarts, as the suite was missing a door to the outside hall, but the place was most assuredly in serious need of a helpful House Elf such as Nessie. Everything in the main room was in boxes, neatly packed away.

With a snap of her fingers, boxes began opening, and everything started putting itself away. Books were flying to the bookshelf and various knickknacks were placed just so. The couch and the two chairs reassembled themselves, and Nessie carefully sat on each one, in order to test each one. Master needed new cushions, as they were quite uncomfortable! They also smelled musty; so much finger waving and magic was required.

Oh! And the fabric was stained and torn.

Truly unacceptable for her new Master, Nessie knew, so she replaced them with nice soft cushions. Plus, she made them a brighter, cheerier color. The sitting room made right with a fresh happy paint color, Nessie then went to each room in the suite and unpacked. Everything needed to be _**perfect**_ when her Master returned, so she cleaned, fixed, primped and improved everything she could find. She even fixed his mattress so it was soft and comfortable! Really, it was no surprise that Master was so cranky, how could he sleep on that mattress? Plus there needed to be pillows! More pillows!

He'd be so happy, and he'd be delighted to have Nessie as his House Elf. That meant that Reggie… and… Tikki… and the other Hogwarts House Elf would be much nicer to Nessie as she had a Master… and… they wouldn't look down at her because she was a stray who had lost her Mistress!

The final room left her quite perplexed until she realized what it was. There was a rocking chair, an old battered rocking chair complete with a menagerie of rather forlorn, knitted animals. There was a long list of "What is needed" that had been left on the rocker and Nessie carefully read the rather detailed list. She shook her head as Master had forgotten several important items for the baby. Fortunately, she knew exactly where to find the overlooked items. She wouldn't get what was on the list, as Master probably had already decided what he desired. She'd acquire only the forgotten ones and Master would be so delighted that she was… proactive… Yes, that was that strange word that Master Slughorn had used on that day she had changed this tweeds to a nice, solid color. It must be a very good thing to be proactive as he had been smiling and laughing when he called her that.

Oh, and she needed to paint the room as the color was all wrong for Baby! Baby needed soothing, restful colors!

And Mistress would need nicer pillows for her bed as she'd want to be comfortable.

And the little knitted animals would appear much happier if they were sprinkled through Master's quarters. They looked so lonely and forlorn, as though someone had just thrown them there!

She was so focused on popping to and from the Room of Requirement, repairing and fixing the minor blemishes on the various items she had acquired and adding the last dash of color to the nursery that only after she was finish, did Nessie realize that she was out past curfew for underage House Elves such as herself. There was no way she'd be able to sneak into the House Elves' dormitory now, so Nessie curled herself up into a little ball and quickly fell asleep. Content that she had last found a Master, Nessie dreamed happy dreams of taking care of Master's baby.

* * *

Albus was once again attempting to open the door to the chambers, when he was buzzed by a paper glider. It circled his head repeatedly and finally he grabbed it, just so it would stop.

Ah, yes, the Ministry used them instead of owls, claimed it cut down on messy inboxes.

His heart skipped a beat when he recognized Severus' cramped handwriting.

_Please, please, I beg you. Please save her from being Kissed. _


	39. Chapter 39

AN - I haven't forgotten this story - It's planned out until the very bitter end but I find my mind not talking to my fingers when I try to type it. I've also gone back to school - so the next update will depend on that.

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey received a package from a small House Elf by the name of Nessie. That wasn't unusual, as she often received packages. However, the small, extremely under-aged House Elf handed her small, surprisingly heavy black bag to her. That was unusual. Owl Posts were usually securely Sealed and wrapped packages.

Plus she didn't recognize the rather ornate handwriting on the accompanying note that stated that the bag was for the expressed attention of one Madam Poppy Pomfrey - Hogwarts.

"I didn't know you did Owl Post," Poppy commented to the Elf. That was said more out of a desire to delay opening the box than anything else. Because she had an unexpected premonition that she was being handed Pandora's Box. If Pandora's box was actually a well-weathered leather Healer's bag complete with a handle worn smooth from use.

"Nessie finded it and broughts it here," The Elf informed her. "Nessie wishing to be helpful Elf."

"Are you a Hogwarts Elf?" Poppy asked. It was a nice way to ask if Nessie reported to any of the Staff Members.

"Nessie being one. Nessie is hoping to haves a new Master soon." The House Elf smiled happily and bounced in her excitement. Then her ears dropped and she looked at floor. "Nessie knows new Master may be saying no. Nessie must trying harder. Nessie be returning to Master's rooms. Nessie has much work needing to be done."

Then the little House Elf looked up at Poppy and whispered, "Nessie wishing to be perfect for new Master. Then Master be knowing that he keeps Nessie. Nessie wanting a new Master."

The House Elf bounced away, leaving Poppy literally holding the bag.

Poppy flipped the envelope over and inhaled when she realized that the missive was Sealed with a dragon sigil.

"You died defending Severus from You Know Who and Albus, and yet you also are responsible for the Manchester Magical Massacre. And Remus' condition is due to you. Yet, you struggled to defend Severus." Poppy ceased her complaining and she deliberately opened the letter. Quickly, she read it and grimaced, having accepted that the pawn known as Poppy Pomfrey had been put into play.

_I know the Dumbledorian version of justice. Finance and Power, Friends and Acquaintances determine ones' innocence or guilt. _

_Severus lacks all of these. Therefore Severus is in need of my assistance. _

_As I Avowed with my sacred honor to my Lord Gellert, I will defend the vulnerable with the last of my strength. Regardless of the small fact that I am most likely dead, I will still speak in order that I might bear Witness to the Dumbledorian and Voldemortian traumas that were inflicted on Severus. The grave will be no barrier to my soul-sworn Oath. I will speak the truth of what I witnessed. _

_Healer Poppy Pomfrey, I Command you on your Healer Oath to search out Filius Flitwick. Give him my bag as there will be instructions for him detailing what must be done. Fortunately for Severus, good Master Flitwick is quite conversant in Blood Magic. _

_By my hand, by my blood, by my soul,_

_Damyan Georgiev Draganov_

_Master Healer – Medical, Advanced Master Healer – Medical, Advanced Master Healer-Surgeon_

Then she opened the bag.

As she had been advised, inside the bag that had been charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm were two vials, one clear, one dark, a pensieve, two Healer notebooks, one suitable for public viewing and the other detailing all the assorted peculiarities of Severus' treatment that was for her review only.

And there was another letter. Triple Sealed in the ways of Old Magic, by Wax, by Blood, by Soul.

For Filius Flitwick.

No one else.

Especially _**not**_ for the perusal of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

And she was Compelled to find Filius immediately.

At that moment, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore entered a scene of absolute chaos. A lot of yelling and assorted cursing were occurring and there was even a thrown chair was in flight.

Then everything stopped; even the chair was halted in midflight as Alastor Moody waved a negligent hand.

"Nice of you to join us," Rufus Scrimgeour growled. "Just so you're aware of the current situation, Albus, here's a brief review. During that magical massacre in Manchester, it seems that Gellert escaped from Nurmengard."

That tidbit caused Albus to stop in mid-stride. Serge the Serbian's sharp inhalation was the only sound in the room.

"What he is failing to mention is that Gellert didn't so much escape from Nurmengard, his followers broke him out," the irascible Moody growled.

"Followers? You're quite comfortable in using the plural?" Rufus vainly protested.

"Bloody hell, Rufus, I _**trained**_ you! Multiple trajectories from multiple flying personnel hit the weakest spot in the wall. And it crumbled like the proverbial walls of Jericho. And yes, I think only an idiot wouldn't believe that Gellert's followers consist of more than the two covens that showed up in Manchester. He's out of Nurmengard, and no matter how hard we cry, we can't get the genie back into the bottle," Moody growled.

"Your vigilantism, your inability to stop meddling has caused this, Albus," the lion maned Rufus thundered. "Gellert's _**out**_! For fifty years, he was _**secure**_ in his prison."

"And Voldemort is _**dead**_," Moody inserted. "Be fair, Rufus. You need to give credit to Albus for that. Plus no matter how hard you wish to deny it, Gellert's followers have been out _**and**_ about. And in positions of high importance!"

"Yes, You Know Who is dead, but so is a goodly percentage of the international Auror associations," was Rufus' retort.

"Their own fault," was Serge's unexpected response. "They treated this like a jolly holiday. Off to see the wizard and all that shite. And they ended up quite dead."

"I _**dare**_ you to say that to their families," protested the beleaguered Minister of Magic.

"I would," the Russian stated. His matter of fact nature startled even Alastor Moody.

Rufus Scrimgeour was the consummate politician and he knew when a cause was lost, and when to jump onto a winning horse.

"Albus, you're no longer guardian for your little Death Eater. You've proven completely incapable of watching over his parole. Filius Flitwick has volunteered for the position, and I've given the responsibility over to him."

Albus was at a loss for words, but still he tried. _**Filius**_? No... Minerva... _**Minerva**_ ... would be preferred. She had experienced trauma similar to Severus... she would be able to help Severus...and there had been that clandestine relationship between them – wouldn't it be for the best for Severus? To have someone he could ... perhaps... one day... develop a _**healthy**_ sexual relationship based on trust and mutual affection?

Not that Filius wasn't a brick, but Filius was a long-term widower, having never remarried after that tawdry business with his in-laws. There had only been one woman for Filius in all the many years that Albus had known him.

Not that it was a bad thing, but Severus deserved a chance to develop a healthy relationship.

"Filius may work at Hogwarts, but he's not a Dumbledore Devotee." Rufus stated his firm belief. "He's also quite the duelist. It shouldn't be too onerous a chore for Filius, as the trial will be taking place shortly. We should have this all wrapped up by nightfall."

It wasn't necessary to be a Legilimens, as Albus could hear Serge's mental protestations reminding him that Albus had promised to help Ekaterina.

* * *

Naturally, Filius was soon separated from Severus. To his surprise, Poppy Pomfrey arrived in the office that he had been given in order to prepare a minimum defense. It wasn't so much an office as it was a closet, but Harry Potter had changed the world after living in a cupboard, and at least Filius didn't have to share his space with a kettle.

"I have to give this to you," Poppy informed him as she presented the physician's bag to him. Her tone was odd and she looked ... peculiar...

"Does that belong to whom I think it does?" Filius asked. He kept his tone light.

"Yes," she said. "He feared Severus might be in need of his assistance."

"Somehow I don't know if his backing will be an asset for Severus," quipped Filius. "That raving nutter business is deemed a major character flaw."

"Filius, there's a letter in there for you. And before you read it... he mentioned Blood Magic, Filius. He commented that you were quite familiar with it," Poppy slowed and then swallowed. "Blood Magic, Filius? The old rumors... about your... expertise..."

Yes, Filius Flitwick was quite familiar with Blood Magic and he had the jolly holiday in Azkaban to prove it.

"Don't you worry, Poppy. I'm not planning on returning to Azkaban. Once was enough for me," was his glib response. "And if the blood is freely given, it is perfectly acceptable to use it. That is according to the latest rulings."

Well, in some quarters, that was the thought. Others disagreed.

"In for a knut, in for a galleon," Filius reminded himself. He then gingerly took the bag from Poppy and then placed it on the table. He opened it and recklessly stuck his hand into the bag. As he anticipated, something jumped into his hand, as though Summoned.

Pulling his hand forth, he discovered the envelope.

"Best you go, Poppy," Filius ordered. His tone was commanding, at odds with his usual cheery demeanor. "Best if you know _**nothing**_ about this."

"I'll tell Albus to break you out of Azkaban," Poppy offered by way of a reassuring goodbye.

Filius refrained from mentioning that he hadn't need Albus' assistance to escape the last time.

* * *

"Seems like old times," Alastor Moody growled. The retired Auror was sitting behind Albus Dumbledore much like he had done at the Wizengamot interrogationof Igor Karkaroff_. _They were in the same bloody seats, Albus realized. Except to his right, there was the glowering Serge who seemed intent on breaking his former fiancée out of custody. On his left, there was a fuming Minerva McGonagall who was tapping the fingers of her right hand on her left arm.

"Filius?" She repeated for what was the ninth time. "_**Filius**_ is _**Severus'**_ barrister? _**You**_ should be defending him."

Alastor just rolled both eyes, the fake one spinning round in its socket, because Moody had already informed Minerva in crude terms that as Severus' former lover, Albus would be a lousy choice to defend him.

Alastor Moody had been a rock steady presence in Albus' life for near seventy years, ever since the first year instructor Albus had noticed Head Boy Alastor Moody. Not in _**that**_ way, the carnal way, but because of his inner strength and tough integrity. But after Alastor' repeated muttered disparagings about Albus' rather tortured and quite scandalous love affairs, Albus was beginning to have his doubts.

Or at least a strong desire that Alastor would come down with a sudden case of laryngitis.

"Minerva, I have the utmost faith in Filius," protested Albus.

Yes, he had complete trust in Filius, however Albus Dumbledore was quite prepared to abscond with Severus if things went south. And yes, Albus would ensure that the former Russian Auror turned Draganov comfort woman would come along for the ride. If for no other reason than Severus' request, because Albus wasn't completely convinced about her supposed Compulsion.

As for Severus, he was Cuffed and Collared, not Gibbeted, as while he was looking particular svelte, a Gibbet simply would not have fit around him. Well, it would have, but the seeming incongruity between Severus' waist size and the circumference of the Gibbet would have been noticed by someone. It took a little bit of wiggling, but Albus was able to see the real Severus underneath the various Charms and Incantations. The lad looked sallow, more than his norm, and yes, Severus did have an endearingly distended belly.

It was June... which meant that Ariana was ... six months along? Truly she was only six months along? So much had happened in such a short time that Albus wouldn't have been surprised to have found Ariana beneath the Sorting Hat that very morning.

Severus was quite knackered, Albus realized anew as the Russian witch was physically assisting Severus. Circumspectly, so it seemed that their contact was accidental, rather than purposely done. Again, Albus cursed himself, wishing that he had not frightened Severus into fleeing. He should be the one cosseting Severus, not _**Gellert's**_ followers. Indulging him, pampering him... yes... _**suffocating**_ him... so Severus would once more decide that his best chance for survival was flight.

"Severus is on his last dregs," Albus stated. He Muffiliatod his voice so only Minerva could hear him plus he added multiple charms on top of it so the damnable lip-reading Serge couldn't listen in. "He's leaning on Ekaterina for supports. He looks quite uncomfortable."

"Damyan had them attached to his heartstone," Minerva explained. "He was severing them and it cracked from a fault. We nearly lost them both so he isn't as hale as he should be, if they had been able to separate them properly."

To Albus' surprise, Minerva reached over and squeezed his hand. Tightly.

A gesture of compassion so unexpected and unwarranted that Albus had to blink back tears. Merlin, his old feelings for the remarkable Minerva, having never really died, were kindling anew. And at certainly what was the most inconvenient of times.

Their eyes met and Minerva nodded once in recognition of what they couldn't acknowledge.

"I'm sorry," Albus whispered. He needed to apologize for his feelings toward her; reassure her that Severus was his priority; promise her that he'd smother his feelings so he wouldn't embarrass her.

"I am also," she confessed. "This has stirred up everything for me also. I had thought I had everything neatly compartmentalized. Regardless of what dear Alastor has been harping , I believe not all your affairs were colossal cockups."

"I need you..." He paused then, realized the ineptness of what he was saying and then he flushed. Yes, Albus needed Minerva... but not in the physical manner, well... _**yes**_... but _**no**_... "I require your assistance with Severus... I need you to advise me on how to handle this very delicate manner."

A longer pause.

"I promise that I will listen and will follow your advice in this matter. I so..." Dumbledore was about to Avow his oath but Minerva shook her head.

"I told you to cancel the Bonding," Minerva reminded Albus.

"I pressured him into agreeing," was Albus' soft response. "I must have promoted his horrible belief that if he Bonded me... that if he bedded me I'd be more inclined to sustain him through this ordeal. Minerva, I would have willing done that even without his offer of physical intimacy. But as always, my hubris is my fatal flaw, as I hoped, that in time, only after he healed, that I could help him... experience... "

Albus was quite shy when it came to sex, Minerva remembered. So she wasn't that surprised when he paused and swallowed.

"I had hoped that I could help him experience it... _**properly**_... I know that our Christmas night together... it wasn't _**good**_ for him. You know that I lack sufficient experience... in such manners to guarantee my partner's satisfaction. At least, not without a great deal of conversation with my partner beforehand."

"Stop fishing for compliments," snapped Minerva. "I had no complaints."

"Always – have you credited me far more than I deserve," Albus gently chided.

"It was the Compulsions that Voldemort put on him that caused most of our problems with Severus. However, neither of us are completely free from blame, Albus."

* * *

Severus Snape was doomed to be Kissed. Albus wasn't jumping to his defense so it seemed that perhaps his pathetic plea for Albus' assistance had been denied. Therefore without Albus' assistance, even a seer of Sybill's limited ability could predict his fate.

He would Kissed and Ariana's soul would be sucked from her body after he was drained. No doubt the Dementors would savor the scrumptious soul of a complete innocent.

A cramped Ariana was stretching and moving within him and he touched her mind. He sent her all the love as he possessed for her and then more, and he was rewarded with what only could be a baby's happy giggle. Their communion strengthened his resolve to do the right thing for Ariana. It would be far better that she die by her father's will then have her soul sucked dry.

At least, he'd be merciful, do it quickly. The Dementors would torture her... The Dark Lord had Compelled Severus to protect the child and so he would. A quick, painfree death would be the best way he could protect her and so it would be.

The difficult decision made, Severus struggled to focus on his current situation. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand the verbal arguments erupting around him; comprehend why he was deemed Incorrigible and Irredeemable. Filius made numerous interjections and protestations but Severus couldn't understand a thing as the sound was garbled. In fact when Ekaterina nodded her head in what seemed to be approval after one of Filius' declarations, he had no idea what he had missed. But she smiled at him, a quick flash of joy.

Then it was Filius' turn to speak. With a quick gesture, he unVeiled a Pensieve. There was a murmur from the crowd, a series of loud protestations while Filius drew a few arcane symbols on the floor. Only then did Albus Dumbledore interject a loud comment. Filius then waited for a moment and then he took two vials from his pockets. With the casual grace of a Charms GrandMaster, he poured both liquids into the vial.

Then Filius loudly compelled the shade of _Damyan Georgiev Draganov _to come forth to testify for the defense of one Severus Tobias Snape.

When the bloody phantasm appeared, the crowd erupted. The clamoring seemed to wake Severus from his ennui.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore knew Filius Flitwick far better and for far longer than Minerva did, so he was alarmed when he saw the pensieve and the blood vial. Filius wasn't allowed to dabble in blood magic, certainly wasn't allowed to display his understanding of the arcane subject in public. That was one of the conditions of his release from Azkaban all those many years ago, after the death of his wife. Well, release wasn't the correct term, as Filius had already broken out of Azkaban.

Yet Filius had waded back into the dark mysteries to help Severus. Yes, Albus had absolved him...

_"My blood is willingly offered. You do not have to fear that the onus of performing the Dark Magic will fall on your soul, Filius. It will be my obligation to carry. I do so willingly."_

But Minerva hadn't spoken those words, had she?

_**No.**_

Merlin's scrote, Minerva hadn't spoken the ritual words releasing Filius' soul from the burden of utilizing Blood as a magical base. And Albus had been so focused on rescuing Severus that he hadn't realized that Filius had broken his parole.

Albus was not only pulling Severus and Minerva down the grade with him; he had already pulled Filius down also.

* * *

Filius Flitwick stared at the phantasm that he had conjured thanks to the Blood and the Soul donated by Severus' defender. As Filius had anticipated, the quixotic DamyanDraganov had decided it proper to appear in full Gellert-era regalia in order to induce a proper feeling of terror and awe in his audience. The audience was full of older wizards and witches who had lived through the original nightmare of Gellert and now one of his chief lieutenants was standing in front of them. Wearing his dragon helm. The dragonhide armor, the dragon emblazoned surcoat and the bloody tattoos... the bloody living tattoos were on full display. If that wasn't horrifying enough, he had conjured two banners, one for the Dragon of Bulgaria and one with Gellert's insignia.

Oh yes, Damyan Draganov had prepared for everything, even for the need to protect Severus after Damyan's death. Really, the helm was the perfect touch as it covered his face and shielded his eyes. He looked like a nightmare made flesh and given form.

"I order you to remove your helm," Filius commanded.

The specter did so, and then he gracefully bowed to Filius Flitwick. It was a chivalrous mark of respect between dueling foes, a gesture from a time long past, and Filius answered in kind.

"Master Flitwick, I am delighted that you still live. Let me reassure the courts that my Blood and Soul were freely given to you for the defense of Severus Snape and that there is no onus against your soul. I wish to bear witness. Let the grave be no barrier to my voice and my memories of what truly occurred."

The spectre's voice was hollow but still it carried credence of the beserker's dark reputation.

A dead Dark Wizard summoned by Blood Magic to bear witness in a trial in front of the entire Wizengamot. If Filius Flitwick did not tread carefully, he would be in a cell next to Severus. Since he wasn't having Albus' baby, he had his niggling doubts that Albus would bother to get him out of Azkaban when Albus decided to rescue Severus. He'd have to do it on his own again and Filius rather doubted that they'd let him escape twice.

Filius nodded once more and then spoke to Damyan.

"Can you advise the court of who you are?" Filius requested.

"I am... or should I say..._**was**_... at one time Damyan Georgiev Draganov. My ranks included that of Master Healer – Medical, Advanced Master Healer – Medical, Advanced Master Healer-Surgeon. I was also a senior member of my Lord Gellert's Brotherhood. Currently, I am in the outer ring of the seventh level of Hell, immersed in the river Phlegethon. And much like my brother Capaneus, my head is unbowed. As my Lord Gellert often commented, 'In war: resolution. In defeat: _**defiance**_. In victory: magnanimity. In peace: goodwill.'

Silence greeted that cheeky pronouncement.

_Yes, that's exactly how I need you to behave. Arrogant, insolent and nuttier than a fruitcake. Throw in a few arcane yet erudite references that will have the majority of them scratching their heads. _

The phantasm leaned toward Filius and asked in a conspiratory tone.

"Tell me, Good Master Filius... sometimes... between the screams... do I truly hear Albus shrieking? The sounds come from Caina. That ring specifically for betrayers of family and kin? I attempted to kill him in Prague, but he survived. Was I at last successful? Does he now freeze in the lake of Cocytus with the rest of blood betrayers?"

Filius didn't need to view Albus to realize that Damyan had verbally scored and had scored well on his opponent. His family, past, current and future, was Albus' Achilles' heel.

"Tell me, Good Master Filius... is not Albus in the ninth level of hell? When I died to protect Severus from that monster bedazzled and bespangled in purple finery, did we both go to Hell together? Or did my fears come true? That he _**still**_ lives?"

"Healer Draganov, no, you did not kill Albus. And there are many here who would disagree with character assessment of him," the gentle Filius chastised him.

_Yes, I know you how you loathe Albus. Let me see what that comment does to your composure._

The specter's face darkened in rage and then he shook his head.

"You're _**fools**_. I found Severus Snape in my alleyway in Manchester, desperate to flee from both Dearest Dumbledore and Snake face. He was so anxious to escape from them both that he did a Blind Jump and nearly died."

"Yes, Healer Draganov, that's why I'm speaking to you. I need you to tell everyone here how you found Severus," explained Filius.

_And hopefully provide a raving, foaming example of why Severus could never leave you._

* * *

"The berk really doesn't like you, does he?" Alastor remarked as Damyan Draganov began detailing in graphic detail how he had found Severus puking and near dead in his alleyway. The Dark Wizard comments were liberally spiced with wry aspersions on Albus' character.

"No, he doesn't," agreed Albus.

"You know, Albus, when this is all said and done, you and I need to have a pint or three, and discuss your truly awesome inability to end your relationships on good terms. It's a God-given talent you have."

"Albus and I were friends," protested Minerva.

"You wouldn't talk to each other for years," Alastor tartly reminded her. "Maybe the kids in the Order don't realize it, but I know how one can converse without saying anything."

Meanwhile Severus' odd defense continued. Damyan Draganov was pretending to be a Healer, so he was detailing the various health issues that had affected Severus.

"When his temperature spiked to 41 degrees Celsius, Severus grew delirious. In his fevered frenzies, he truly believed that I was Albus Dumbledore and he would beg me to stop hurting him. That Severus had finally learned his lesson and no longer wished to be punished. He would remind Albus of how he had been a true and loyal servant, how he had willingly followed all of Albus' commands, no matter how depraved. He would struggle to convince Albus that Severus still had some worth to Albus' grand schemes, even though he had lost his arm. Even though his traumas had temporarily robbed him of his magic."

"Good Master Filius, in his fear of being returned to Azkaban due to his supposed inability to contribute to Albus Dumbledore's vigilantism, I must confess that Severus even offered to... **bed **... me. What the terrified Severus offered to do was nauseating even to my worldly tastes, and in my naive refusal to claim myself as Albus, he grew increasingly desperate to remain out of Azkaban and safe from Snake Face. Perhaps it would have been better for his wounded soul, if I had lied to him, assured him in his delirium that that blessed Saint Albus had forgiven him."

"I do not understand why you involved yourself in this matter. Can you explain yourself?" Filius questioned. "You've hidden in the shadows for the last fifty years, why did you decide to involve yourself with this?"

"I felt compassion for Severus. To be continuingly sent to the viper's lair and then to be cast aside as though he was nothing more than a broken hammer, well, it affected me. His fears of being returned to Azakban are well-founded. I know firsthand Wizarding Justice. When my wife and child were murdered, Wizarding Justice decided that I was the guilty party. People, whom I naively believed were my friends, turned away from me and not a single soul dare raise a protest that I was not guilty of those hideous crimes. My Lord Gellert reached his hand out to me, a stranger, and helped me when all others had forsaken me. How could I not do the same for Severus?"

"And I was angry, so angry that the great Albus Dumbledore would use a loyal servant as a tool and then discard him in the rubbish heap when Severus's duplicity was discovered by Snake Face. My Lord Gellert would never have treated his followers that way. No wonder Severus did a runner. I decided that Severus needed new friends."

"New friends?" Filius questioned.

"Yes, new friends. People who would cherish him for the remarkable talent that he is, people that would _**not**_ allow other people to abuse him... _**New**_ friends, _**true**_ friends."

"A true friend would most assuredly prevent him from returning to a bad situation," prompted Filius.

That earned a narrowing of Damyan's eyes. He knew that Filius was leading him down the garden path but the automaton's slightly crooked grin was answer enough. Damyan would bloody run down the path, foaming and raving the entire way.

To _**protect**_ Severus.

"Yes. Severus was badly injured, terribly weakened by his ordeal, close to death. And as Severus' _**true**_ friend, I was quite concerned that he'd return to his abuser. I wished to help him regain his strength so he would under no man's sway. "

Filius had the unique experience of having Damyan's magical mirror image drop to his knees and look him straight in his eyes.

"Good Master Filius, it's not Severus' fault that he broke his parole. He was Compelled to return back to Albus, yet Snake Face had heavily layered a rather rational fear of Albus into the mix. Snake Face abused Severus using Albus' image but it only crystallized the fact that blessed Albus had repeatedly wounded Severus through years of neglect and abuse. Fortunately, I prevented Severus from returning back to Dear Dumbledore as Severus returning back to Albus would have quickly led to Severus' death."

"Severus broke his parole," Filius reminded Damyan. "Yet, you are telling me you're the real behind him breaking his parole."

Damyan softly laughed. "I understand what you're doing, Good Master Filius. Truly, you must have been one hell of a duelist if the way you bandy words is any indication. Very well then, for the idiots that line the arena, I will speak plain. Severus could not leave my shop until I released him. He was as good as dead when he landed in my alleyway, so I tied him into my heartstone."

There was a grumble from the various purists in the audience. Heartstones were not considered proper magic.

"Come now, I cannot believe that these fine, learned souls refuse to explore outside the lines. These children foolishly limit themselves by accepting Eurocentric custom as gospel. Heartstones are any magical objects that can store and even augment magical energy. I fed my personal wards for over two decades in Manchester through my heartstone. Most importantly when a severely depleted Severus decided to plant himself face first in my alleyway, I was able to keep him alive through my heartstone. And yes, I tied him into it so he wouldn't be able to leave."

Damyan laughed.

"I did the same thing to Severus as I did to Ekaterina Sidorova Dobrolubskaia. Katya tried to leave, so many times over the years. But she couldn't."

The Dark Wizard laughed harder.

"She tried to kill me, you know. Fifty seven attempts over the last thirty years. I forgave her each and every incident except for the times Katya tried to kill both of us. I don't mind Katya trying to kill me as I found her futile endeavors _**refreshing**_ and _**invigorating**_. The dear girl kept me on my toes. However, I have never forgiven her for those dozen or so attempts when she decided to kill both of us to get rid of me. I _**healed**_ her; I _**fixed**_ her broken back when I found her dying in an alleyway, I must assuredly wasn't going to let her go. Certainly not back to the Russian Aurors, who rather cavalierly sent her after me. _**Alone**_."

"So Ms. Dobrolubskaia was also your ... companion?" Filius paused, accenting the slight pause.

"I _**cared**_ for both of them, so I kept them _**safe**_. I kept them _**close**_. You are a man of this horrible, horrible world, Master Filius. There are animals like Voldemorts and Dumbledores out there, uncaring of whom they crush in order to gain power. Those that are focused on their own glory. Katya and Severus, they were my _**family**_ and I would do anything to protect them. Good Master Filius, I know what happened to your wife. How you did everything in your power to protect her. How her father and her brothers looked down on you because of your Goblin heritage."

"Oh bloody hell," whispered a shocked Filius.

"If only Gellert and the Brotherhood had been active then. Gellert would have recognized you for the intelligent, magnificent soul that you are. You and your wife, you would no doubt have a multitude of great-grandchildren by now. You certainly wouldn't have been remanded to Azkaban while your father-in-law got away with an Honor Killing. These children's predecessors did _**nothing;**_ so fearful were they of offending your father-in-law and his cronies."

Filius turned away from Draganov and looked toward the Minister of Magic. His voice was tremulous as he requested a recess.

There was a loud palaver in the courtroom.

In a softer tone, Damyan continued to talk. "If Gellert had been your liege lord, we would have been brothers. Filius. As your brother, I would have killed them for you, for I know you have a kind and gentle soul, Master Filius. "

"_**Murder**_ is not the _**answer**_," loudly protested Filius. "If there is one thing I've learned in my long life, deliberate _**murder**_ is not the _**solution**_."

"Alas, I must disagree, _**murder**_ is the only answer!"

"No, it never ends. One killing leads to another and then another," argued Filius.

"_**Execution**_ is the only answer for the culpable. I executed the Muggle that killed my wife and child. The Bulgarians and the Czechs... they didn't determine guilt, they decided based on personal whims and jealously. No trial was I given. My cousin Adrik was given no trial, no chance to defend himself and his family from unwarranted charges. A bloody hag could have read his blood and realized he didn't carry the curse."

The revenant was in full voice.

"Execution is acceptable for the guilty parties. I killed Tobias Snape because of the crimes he committed. You know Filius, he pushed his wife down a flight of steps. He put her in a coma, and nothing was done. You brave souls sitting in the arena, looking down on me because of what I was, the New Order I wished to create for our kind, you lot did _**nothing**_ for one of your own. Because she was poor, because she was abused, because it was so easier for you lot to look the other way. The Muggles, well, they did _**nothing**_. And Albus... dear, sweet, sainted Albus... well... he was quite occupied with far more important issues than to handle this delicate matter involving one of his supporters. Such tough decisions for such a brilliant man. Should he wear the purple or the scarlet?"

"And I say, wear the scarlet, Albus, for the blood on your soul. One day, I will greet you in Hell, and I long for that day."


End file.
